Return to Grace
by Wonderrland
Summary: AU of sorts. God returned to free two angels from the cage and bring two back from the dead. Chapter Seven:He took one look at Sam, his gaze mainly fixed on the thing in his hands and cried: "What the hell is that?" "Why Dean," said Sam wryly, "I think it's a kitten."
1. Chapter 1

**Character POV: Lucifer.**

**A/N: this is going to be a multi-chapter fic of random stuff that happens in my AU verse. From my one-shot, Broken Shards. ****You don't have to read that one first, I don't think ... but I dunno, it _might_ help if you do.**

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Chapter One

**Reunions:**

Lucifer left the angel who, - he smugly saw, - was still shattered and basically beaten below him, trying to fix himself.

As soon as he had come undone, Lucifer had disappeared in a loud flutter of wings. Now, he knew, he really should have thought more on where he was going before just flying out of there ... and that's why, - his mind filled with very explicit pictures and boredom no longer posing as a factor for him for a while, - he found himself somewhere he really wasn't allowed to be at this moment.

Earth.

_For fucks sake, this is the last thing I need!_

He span around slowly, taking the time to take in his surroundings. Where he was exactly, he had no fucking idea. He was standing in the middle of a deserted road, it was night time, he would say an hour or two past midnight, and the moon was full at its peak in the black sky. It was cold enough for his bated breath to turn to smoke before his lips and he knew that if he were as weak as the humans he would most likely be freezing his ass off right now. He knew he shouldn't be down here, he wasn't exactly _allowed_ to be just yet but he really couldn't bring himself to go back up to heaven straight away. Even if he would be reprimanded for it later. He loved his Father still, - and rather begrudgingly too, because he hated Him just as much for everything He's ordered him to be put through and everything's He's threatened to put him through if he steps out of line one more time. His ban from earth had been one of the first rules Father had ordered of him. He didn't want Lucifer on earth at the moment, obviously worried about what he may or may not do this soon out of the gate. He had threatened things much worse than the cage if He heard from Michael or Jacob that Lucifer had broken any of His terms and though he would never admit it to anyone, Lucifer bristled with fear every time he thought about it.

Yet, Lucifer being Lucifer, with these promises running around his mind, he still couldn't help himself. With a smirk tweaking his freaked features, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and started walking down the road. Yeah, he may not be allowed down here yet, but what Father doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, he knows that when Father finally allows it he will probably be chaperoned by bloody Michael and then any chance of him having any sort of fun will be out the window. If he was quick enough tonight though, he could just maybe … take a small peek … and be back in heaven before anyone up there noticed the disappearance of his grace.

A month in heaven was enough to drive anyone sane person insane. Because fuck was it boring! Balthazar, luckily, had found a way to get rid of said boredom that came with Lucifers new life but sadly it hadn't last long and once again he was thinking of a way to have some fun before returning to the people who seemed set of stopping him from having just that.

The idea came to him suddenly. Out of thin air and so he closed his eyes and set his mind to focus. To focus on the one measly human he had any kind of a connection to. He located him almost instantly. Not far from where he himself was now, actually. _Good_. Lucifer made himself invisible to the naked eye and just as he was about to fly over there, a cold, commanding voice stopped him from getting any further in his actions.

"_Don not even think about it, Lucifer. Get back up here this instant before you do anything stupid and I have to tell Father. And I will."_

The scenery shifted and he was back upstairs again.

"Fuck, you're so bossy. And absolutely no fun, Michael, dear. You need to lighten up," Lucifer commented dryly, his stride verging on predatory as he moved forward, his finger jabbed the air at his brother on his last comment.

Michael continued to stare him down in silence for a moment as he came closer and closer before speaking, his voice deathly quiet: "I do not need to 'lighten up', I am not here to have fun, Lucifer," he stated, only a few inches away from him now. "And neither are you," he reminded him, his voice firm and his eyes narrowed on his own.

Lucifer watched as Michael's wings began to unfurl out of nowhere from his back as he spoke his last statement. Being on this wavelength, made them hang there, defiant, in their most splendid glory. The whitest of white mixed with royal gold. The favourite. Daddy's little soldier.

"And here I was thinking Father let me out of the cage to bring the party back to heaven," he replied with mock confusion, his brow furrowing and yet his gaze not leaving his brothers. He saw Michael's wings stretch out further at his sarcasm and his eyes darken, and Lucifer decided that two could play at that game and he did some silent threatening of his own.

"I'd put your wings away if I were you," Michael warned, his voice dripping with venom that Lucifer thought was incredibly unfounded. He started it, after all.

He smiled at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "Why? Are you jealous of them?"

"Of you? Never. I'm merely letting you know that one of your conditions is no fighting. So once again I advise you to put away your wings, and while you're at it, wipe that smug look from your face and stop breaking the rules. Father brought you out of the cage under the pretense that you follow each and every one of his orders, and do exactly as I tell you. And I'm te–"

"–actually," Lucifer cut in, "Father never told me to follow _everything_ you say, brother."

"Well, unless you want me to go and tell Jacob, - who will no doubt find a way to tell Father as soon as I do, - that you had a little impromptu trip downstairs then take my advice, _Lucifer_, and be a good little boy." He practically had hissed the name, letting Lucifer know that now they were out, Michael was having none of his shit. It actually surprised him a little how put together his brother could be when threatening someone, it was kind of eerie. His voice was steady and calm, but the brute force of each word was there to hear if you tried. His face gave nothing away apart from his eyes. He was pretty sure this is how he looked when smiting someone. "I know what you were planning on doing down there and no, maybe you weren't going to hurt them, but you weren't even supposed to be down there, let alone be in the same town as _them_. So believe me when I say: I will not hesitate, nor will I even think to intervene with whatever punishment Father deems fit, if you do it again."

Hmm. And here he thought he and Michael had rather begun to hit it off again, just like old times. _Such a shame._ "If you don't care what Father does then why don't you go and tell Him instead of threatening to do so?" he asked, surprising himself because he really did want to know the answer.

Michael didn't miss a beat however. Didn't give anything away that might be mistaken for any emotions toward his brother. If he had any left for him, that is. It felt highly unlikely to him now. "Because," Michael answered, "Father, strange as it is, actually wants to give you a second chance. You know how He is, wanting to believe so much in all of His creations. I'm only not telling Him you disobeyed now because of my love and duty toward Him. He also asked me to give you the same chance that He was, and I complied to his wish like it were just another command. I'm ordered however, to keep an eye on you and so, like I brushed on earlier, _do not push me."_ Michael inched closer, his wings spread to their greatest width, the tip of his nose a hairs breadth from his own. "If you step out of line again, I will tell Him that His faith in you is misplaced once more."

"Like you said, _brother_," retorted Lucifer, accentuating the name and reveling in the reaction it got out of Michael, "I wasn't going to harm the Winchesters in any way. I didn't even mean to go down there in the first place if I'm honest with you. It was a miscalculation of flight dynamic on my part. I assure you, brother, dear … it won't happen again," he promised smoothly, flashing what he hoped to be a somewhat sincere smile.

And of course Michael didn't take the bait willingly. "Pretty big miscalculation, _Lucifer_."

"Well it _has_ been a while since I've been up here, you know that. Need to get used to it I suppose. But as you know, I pick things up easily enough."

It was all only half a lie. It had been an accident to end up on earth but his promise never to do it again wasn't set in stone. If things got too tedious up here then he might not be able to stop himself from taking a planned vacation.

"Would you two stop peacocking each other! It's beginning to get really awkward to watch," came a sarcastic voice from behind Lucifer. He knew who it was instantly and inwardly cringed._ Damn, I didn't want to see him! He's going to be insufferable. _

"Gabriel," said Michael curtly, his wings returning to nothingness and his body language returning from dominant to his open yet, I'm-still-higher-up-the-hierarchy-than-you stance. "I am sorry you had to see that. We got carried away. It will not happen again."

Lucifer finally turned to look at his brother, if only to get away from looking at Michael, his wings disappearing as he did so. The hyperactive archangel was just as he remembered him the night he killed him. Shorter than the average man, long honey-brown hair and his golden eyes matching the smirk on his lips. "Oh, no," said Gabriel, who was lounging on the floor, angled back against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him, his left bent for his arm to rest upon, "don't mind me. It's actually quiet entertaining to watch when you know a civil war isn't going to break out this time. I just thought I'd better intervene before you settled your differences in a more … harsh yet, loving way."

"I wish you would get your head out of the gutter, Gabriel," chastised Michael, "that would never happen between he and I."

The smaller archangel merely shrugged and pulled a lollypop out of existence. "Well … you know what they say: opposites attract and all that." He punctuated the sentence by popping the lolly into his mouth. Lucifer wondered how it was possible for him to still be smirking with that in his mouth, but didn't comment on it. He was still annoyed he was here with them. Shooting daggers at his sugar-loving brother, Lucifer asked what the hell he was doing there, spying on them.

"Well, if you dragged your head out of your ass long enough to smell the fresh air, then you would have realised that I was here talking to Michael before you decided to show your feathery ass. And stop looking at me like that," he said, biting down on the lolly with a crunch, "wouldn't want to smite me. Would you? It might kill me."

"Gabriel," Michael warned before Lucifer could.

_Great, he starts the fucking death jokes already. _He knew this was coming. It's what he was like. He was going to taunt him about it as much as he could because he knew Lucifer couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't even knock any sense into the small angel if he took things too far. He despised Father for that, making him have to tolerate absolutely everything that anyone said or did to him. It really wasn't fair. But then again, Lucifer wasn't here today because he listen to everything Father said and so, if Gabriel took it too far, he wouldn't hesitate to do whatever it took to make him stop.

"Fine!" Gabriel sighed, jumping up onto his feet. "But you're the one who brought us both here to speak in the first place."

"So that's why Balthazar came to get me?" Lucifer asked, turning back to the prissy brother.

"Yes. But not so Gabriel could wind you up. Father wants clear air between the two of you. Is that understood?"

Gabriel sighed heavily as though this were the most – thing anyone had asked of him. "Clear air? Of course. Just seeing Luci here again is like having all the air knocked out of my lungs. In a good way," he added hastily before Michael could comment on it, and he pulled out a Kit-Kat from his jacket pocket. "Tell our bro here to stop glaring at me though; I need to catch a break. I don't really hold anything against him for murdering me. They're only jokes." He broke a piece from the chocolate bar and ate as he stared between the two of them.

Michael seemed to be fine with the archangels words and turned to Lucifer for his answer. He only nodded. Not trusting himself to speak too much around Gabriel. The silence lapsed, with only the sound of Gabrie'ls munching to break it. "Where is Balthazar anyhow? I asked him to come back with you."

Lucifer smirked. "Oh, he had a little accident. Don't worry your pretty little head over him though; he was fine when I left him. He's probably just taking a little break from orders before he comes back. Shouldn't be too long."

"Good," said Michael turning to face the giant golden doors behind him, "because we all have somewhere to be in a matter of minutes. Father is sending Jacob to fill us all in on the events that have come to pass as we've all been, either dead or locked away. And I'd rather get it over and done with without having to wait on Balthazar."

"Oh, goody!" cried Gabriel, rubbing his hands together. "I've been rather curious as to what happened up here and down there. I mean, I've got the basics, like the rest of you three, but I'd much rather have all the tiny little details. Never know what you can learn about someone then."

"You only want to see if you can find something to lord over someone," snapped Lucifer with disgust.

"Yeah, you're right on that account Luci," Gabriel agreed, smirking at Lucifer's distaste of the nickname. "But to be honest from what I've heard our baby Cassie has been a very badass little angel and I can't wait to hear how he's grown up! Come along!" And with the he skipped past the two of them, snapping with his fingers for the doors to open and entered the hall, bouncing with joy for the topic of meeting.

Lucifer really couldn't fucking wait.

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**A/N: Read, review, favourite, follow! Do whatever you like! But it would be great to know if you guys actually want more on this front. So I don't feel that I'm writing it blindly for myself. **

**(P.S. If you do, updates would be weekly, because I'm also in the middle of another multi-chapter fic. But other than that. Yeah. ENJOY!).**

**xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Character POV: Michael.**

**A/N: Here's Chapter Two! It's a day late but I was busy. WARNING: this chapter does contain spoilers for the basis of the plots of series 5,6,7 and 8. So, if you don't wanna know: you can read up to the fist line break then stop until the next chapter. But if you don't care, or they aren't considered spoilers because you've watched them all then:** **ENJOY! And Merry Christmas Eve Eve!** **xxx**

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Chapter Two

**A History Lesson:**

Michael didn't think that his brother deserved those wings of his. They had always been beautiful and could easily rival his own and Michael hadn't minded it that much ... but that was back then. Back when his brother _was _his brother and cared about the other angels as well as himself. Now, he was no longer Lucifer: the smart, handsome, witty angel who loved their father more than any other; but he was Lucifer: the fallen archangel who disobeyed their fathers orders, tried to bring the apocalypse to earth, - their fathers greatest creation, - created demons as an added 'see here' and killed too many of his brothers and sisters to ever be truly forgiven. And Michael no longer thought he deserved to be called an archangel after it all, and he definitely did not deserve to keep such extraordinary wings as his.

He of course understood why his father had freed Lucifer from the cage too, how could he not? But despite his idol-ism he had when it came to his father, Michael couldn't help but think a threat of the cage, heaven arrest and following every order given to him or else, wasn't punishment enough.

Michael thought Lucifer deserved to be stripped of his ranks and title, and he more than deserved for his six grand archangel wings to be ripped away from him and replaced with two meager wings in replacement. He realised how horrid that sounded. After all, an angels wings are almost as sacred as their grace, they were basically the embodiment's of it. To knowingly cause harm to someone's wings was incredibly cruel and deserved a high punishment. But after everything that Lucifer had done, Michael couldn't think of a more fitting punishment than that. He could after all, earn his status and wings back, if it were possible to do so. If he could do enough penance. To Michael's dismay, Lucifer didn't seem to be paying any sort of penance for his sins. He actually seemed quite content, sitting around the table and awaiting Jacobs arrival.

Sadly though, it wasn't up to Michael to dish out Lucifer's punishment. Their father had done so and whatever he had said to the ex-archangel it seemed to be working for now and so Michael couldn't-_wouldn't_say otherwise or speak out about his views on the matter. He was a soldier. He was dealt orders and he followed them. Nothing would change that.

The four of them were seated around a large golden table; Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar and he. Balthazar had joined them a couple of minutes ago, striding in through the two hall doors, his back straight and a smile playing on his lips as he looked over them all.

Michael was at one head of the table: Lucifer was sat at the chair on his right: Gabriel was opposite him and Balthazar next to the playful archangel. He noticed as he looked around that they were all sitting incredibly differently to one another.

Michael was sat, with his hands placed on either arm rest, his back straight and his head held high awaiting his fathers consort.

Balthazar was sat, leant back slightly in his seat with his left foot resting on his right thigh, one hand clamping the ankle and his thumb tapping away signalling that he was most likely bored. The other hand clasped an empty wine glass resting on the arm rest. Michael had seen him have one drink since he came here, he probably did it for something to do since no one was talking because of the tension coming off Lucifer and Gabriel and maybe Michael himself.

His fellow archangel Gabriel,(despite Michael's earlier qualms of letting him back in after he ran off all those years ago, he had come to realise that Gabriel was all for regaining his post and being the good angel he should for father), was seated laziest of the four. He was leant back completely with one leg draped over the other, resting on the table before him. He had his arms tucked behind his head and he was staring at Lucifer with a barely-there-unless-you're-looking-for-it smirk.

Lucifer had been glaring back at Gabriel for just as long as Gabriel had been smirking at him. Michael was going to say something but had gotten sidetracked with his thoughts about suitable punishments. Now, he looked at how Lucifer was sitting. He frowned at him because he was sitting ... well ... provocatively for one. His arms were draped either side of the chair as if he couldn't care less and his legs were the same. It angered Michael to see him sitting there, so comfortable in himself, as if he belonged, as if he had never left and rebelled and ruined _everything_!

Michael felt snarkiness, a very Lucifer-esque trait overcome him. Which he hated. He wanted to say something. Something rude and cruel. Before he could open his mouth however Gabriel decided to voice his own opinion after countless minutes of silently critiquing him.

"You sit like a whore," said Gabriel, his voice calm and sounding as if he had just said that the sky was blue. Balthazar chuckled and Michael kept his eye on Lucifer in case of any backlash. "And as much as I like an easy ride, I'm sure no one would take one on you. I mean, you look like you'd give good stress relief but ... you'd probably give me Aid's or something ..." Here his smile grew wider as Lucifer narrowed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable next comment to come. "And you know what happens to people who catch that."

Before he could retaliate however Michael scolded the trickster. "Gabriel, enough!" his voice was hard and commanding. Not that he wanted to defend Lucifer or anything but Gabriel would keep making snarky comments at his expense and with only two or three in he was already irritated by them. This was not the time or place for such things. Not anymore. "I have told you that father was clear air between the two of you and that means no provoking him in the slightest. Do you understand, Gabriel?"

The archangel huffed. Unamused. "Yes," he mumbled in answer.

"Good. Find something else to keep you entertained and keep out of mischief."

He heard Balthazar snort at that, probably thinking that telling Gabriel to find something to entertain himself with was like giving a knife to a baby; no good would come of it. But Michael payed no heed and kept his gaze fixed on Gabriel.

A suspicious glint formed in his brothers almost golden eyes at his words but before Michael could question it further, the sound of metal and wood being scraped and pushed filled the room and the doors to the hall opened once again and in walked a just-past-middle-aged man who he instantly knew to be Jacob.

He walked over to the other side of the table, the doors to the hall slamming shut at the wave of his hand. "Ok, boys. Let's get straight to business, shall we?"

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Michael stiffened, ready to listen. The other three seemed to slumps down more, if it were possible, awaiting what Balthazar called 'story time'.

When Jacob told the room that Dean said no to Michael: Michael grimaced at the memory. Lucifer smirked because he was able to get his vessel to say 'yes'. Balthazar didn't really seem to care and Gabriel laughed.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel Molotoving Michael: Gabriel choked on the candycane he had started to eat and couldn't stop laughing at Michael for getting whipped by their baby brother until Jacob himself silenced him.

When Jacob told the room about Lucifer killing Castiel for Molotoving Michael: Gabriel said a comment about more than brotherly love and Balthazar couldn't help but splutter over the fact that he killed him with a simple snap of his fingers. To which Lucifer replied: "Yeah, so you two idiots better watch yourselves."

When Jacob told the room about Sam overpowering Lucifer and throwing Michael, Lucifer, Adam and he into the pit: Gabriel snorted and said: "Wow. You can kill little Castiel with a click of your fingers and yet you allowed the great Moose to overpower you. Maybe you're not so great as you think you are." Michael had to grab the angel blade that. Went flying through the air, almost hitting Gabriel in the arm before things escalated.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel's return and proclaiming himself the new God: Lucifer laughed along with Gabriel, but for two very different reasons and Michael frowned at that delusion of his.

When Jacob told the room about Raphael and the civil war he started in heaven: well ... a lot of things were said from everyone around the table and none of them suitable to tell.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel, Balthazar and Titanic: Balthazar became ashamed and trying to differentiate the conversation along said how much he hated the film adaption of the historic event and Celine Dionne. This didn't go according to plan however when Gabriel began to sing 'My Heart Will Go On' at the top of his lungs and only shut up when Balthazar threw his empty wine glass at his head.

When Jacob told the room about Balthazar dying: no one said much. But the murdered himself didn't seem too mad.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel partnering up with Crowley to get the souls out of purgatory so he could win against Raphael: Lucifer looked disgusted at the thought of being friendly with a demon. Michael couldn't help but feel the same. Both Balthazar and Gabriel agreed, said it was a really stupid idea but ... probably the only one that would work.

When Jacob told the room about Raphael dying: Lucifer smiled an actual smile; he never really liked Raphael. Michael tried his best to keep face but admittedly it was hard. And the other two didn't even bother controlling themselves and cheered themselves silly whilst spouting insults at the dead archangels expense.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel agreeing to put the souls back and then being taken over by Leviathan and dying: Michael was happy Castiel saw the errors of his ways. Everyone was disgusted with how he died.

When Jacob told the room about Sam's hallucinations because Castiel broke the wall in his head when he was God: Lucifer looked a little ashamed, but then said it wasn't him and continued to pout at everyone's unsure glaring.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel's rebirth as Emmanuel, gaining his memory back and then taking on Sam's madness: Michael was proud, but became a little sad along with Gabriel and Balthazar when the heard what happened to him for doing so.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel helping the Winchesters to kill the head Leviathan, Dick Roman, even though he was still crazy and about Dean and Castiel ending up in Purgatory as a result: "Purgatory?" said Balthazar. "They spent a year in Purgatory? Bloody hell. They must've been fighting for their lives every moment in there."

When Jacob told the room about Castiel running away from Dean in Purgatory to keep him safe because he had a price on his head: Lucifer rolled his eyes. Michael tried not to read too much into that. And Gabriel and Balthazar sent knowing looks to one another.

When Jacob told the room about Dean meeting Benny and spending every minute searching for the angel and eventually getting out: Balthazar and Gabriel sent more knowing looks at each other. Michael had to admit he was a little shocked that the Winchester refused to leave without Castiel and something weird felt in his gut when he was told that Castiel didn't go with Dean through the portal because he thought Purgatory was his penance.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel getting out and becoming a hunter: they all asked why only for Jacob to tell them next.

When Jacob told the room about Castiel's guilt over what he did to heaven and how he couldn't bring himself to come back here in fear of what he might be inclined to do to himself as punishment: well they were all stunned and no one could get anything out not matter how hard they tried.

And when Jacob told the room what Naomi did to him: Michael couldn't stop himself from whispering hoarsely: "That's why, as soon as I was out, that killing her was my first order." Jacob replied 'yes' and both his brothers said: "Good. The bitch."

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Everyone in the room was silent for a while after that, each of them taking in everything they'd heard in their own way.

Balthazar was the first to speak up.

"Cassie really thinks he deserves to die?" His was low and soft with emotion.

"Why do you care if he's verging on suicidal?"asked Lucifer. "He killed you. You should be happy."

"Of course I'm not happy," said Balthazar incredulously, looking at Lucifer as if he had turned into a fish. "I love Cassie. Yeah, he killed me but to be honest it's not like I didn't half deserve it. Besides, unlike you when you ruined heaven, Castiel didn't mean to. Everything he's ever done seemed to be done for what he thought was right for heaven, for earth and the humans. What father would have wanted. Yeah, some of it was unconventional, but his heart was in the right place throughout it all."

"I agree with Balthazar," added Gabriel straight after, "Castiel's always had too much heart. He doesn't deserve to die or be hurt for what he's done, I would assume taking on the Winchesters madness and spending over a year in Purgatory is penance enough. Even if the idiot doesn't think so. He only wanted what was best for his brothers and sisters, more than Raphael did."

Silence once again descended upon the room. Gabriel and Balthazar seem set in the views on the matter and when Michael looked at Lucifer, he could tell he was still thinking about everything. Michael had to admit, he agreed wholeheartedly with his brothers. He held no grudge against Castiel for molotoving him and he held no grudge against his actions since. He cast a gaze over to Jacob who was staring at him pointedly, willing him to saying something final on the matter before Jacob finished up.

"They are right," conceded Michael, "Castiel didn't take joy in obliterating thousands of our kind, he hates himself for it when, yes he should feel bad, but he shouldn't think he deserves to die. Raphael had lost his way, starting a war and trying to re-start the apocalypse. All our little brother did was try and save fathers greatest creations and he should be forgiven as long as father agrees. Does father agree, Jacob?"

A small smile graced Jacobs lips. "Yes. Your father has forgiven Castiel of his sins and one day he himself will too. But today is not that day and I have to leave now. Goodbye gentleman, keep up the good work."

Michael watched him leave and turned back to his companions when Balthazar said he had somewhere to be and disappeared too.

"Well," began Gabriel, taking his legs off the table and leaning forward against it, "I don't know about you two but I feel like we've been left off the guest list to the cool party and had to make do with a makeshift one in our parents basement."

"You wanted to be a part of that? _You:_who hates violence between us?" asked Michael, a little shocked and ignoring his brothers stupid party metaphor.

"Well I wouldn't have really waned to be involved in the front lines. But it would've been interesting to witness from the sidelines ..."

Michael saw Lucifer shake his head out of the corner of his eye. "So, you're still a coward then?"

Michael snapped his head toward Lucifer and narrowed his eyes. "_Provoking goes both ways, Lucifer so stop,_" Michael projected into his head. The ex-archangel didn't bother with a reply which was more than a thin smile. Gabriel, luckily, didn't take the bait and excused himself. Or so Michael thought. But he was wrong.

When Gabriel reached the now open doors, he turned on his heel, his body was angled away from them but his face was turned to them. He had his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and he was wearing that half smirk of his and that mischievous glint in his eye was back. _This can't be good._"See ya later, Michael," he waved one hand goodbye. "Oh, and Lucifer?"

"What?" Lucifer practically hissed at him, turning in his chair.

"You're still a great big bag of dicks."

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**A/N: Also, in a few of the coming chapters Gabriel and Balthazar are gonna be playing pranks on the Winchesters(because why stop a lifetime of it?) so, if there are any prank ideas that you'd like to see, let me know in a comment/PM and I'll see what I can do.**

**Oh yeah, if you have any prompts that you'd like to see in this AU then tell me as well. I like to have loads of ideas to play with.**

**xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Character POV: Dean/Sam/Cas.**

**A/N: Before we start, I want to thank FireChildSlytherin5 and Magpie of Silver for leaving reviews. They make me smile. :) And I'd also like to thank anyone who's read/faved/followed, you guys make me smile too!** **xxx**

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Chapter Three

**The Eve of ... Something:**

_11th December:_

One month.

One month and nothing had happened.

Well, not nothing, they had the odd hunt here and there; a werewolf in South Dakota, a nest of vampires in Iowa. But when it came to personal changes, between the dynamic of communication within the group, the three of them two out of which probably didn't even want to be there, nothing had progressed.

Sam was silently worrying whenever he got a free moment, looking at his brother and his friend with those puppy-dog eyes, imploring either of them to say something only for the look to no longer have its desired effect when sicked on this conversation. He became increasingly worried about Cas and his mental state, and by extension: Dean. His brother and the angel had always been close but ever since purgatory ... he wasn't sure, not even certain the two themselves were sure, but Sam knew how badly Dean had taken leaving Cas in purgatory even when it wasn't his fault. He had been so scared for Dean back then when he hardly slept and kept seeing the angel in places he shouldn't. But this felt worse. If that were even possible. They were both here yet so far away and Sam really didn't know what to do for once, not even an inkling of a clue had struck him recently.

Dean, well everyone knew that Dean Winchester did not do chick-flick moments. Of course there was that one time, not too long ago, before it all happened that he had practically begged Cas to talk to him. To tell him everything he was feeling, what was going on inside his head. Like this conversation, it didn't go the way he'd expected. He wasn't sure which was better. Complete silence on the matter or answering only to say that he might be suicidal. He hadn't liked the thought of Cas killing himself, more than he wanted to dwell on back then, but there were times recently that he couldn't help himself from analysing everything he'd ever done, said, or felt for the angel. It was driving him crazy because every time he would end up at the same revelation and it wasn't getting any easier to bear seeing as the angel in question hardly ever spoke and when he did it was always about a case, clipped questions or answers and then he'd go back to being mute. Dean really didn't like that one bit. He thought about maybe trying to talk to Cas one more time about it, but his first try three weeks ago didn't end up all that well and he wasn't really in the mood to replay that night any time soon. He hated to admit it. He hated to have realised. He hated how it made him feel. But Cas no longer looked at him anymore. He would cast glances at them every now and then, when they were all sitting around or talking but it was only as if he were doing it out of some forced social protocol and wouldn't linger for more than half a second. He missed the angels eyes more than anything, Dean realised. And no. He was not gay. And he was not going to think about it.

Castiel, the disgraced Angel of Thursday(or so the angel and all others thought, the brothers still seemed to think he was the best angel out there), hadn't been the same since Naomi. He knew this. The Winchesters knew this. And even though Castiel was sure he was being rude, unkind and un-thankful to his only friends, he couldn't bring himself to join in with them anymore. To help with research and have fun. Not like he used to want to. Not even with Dean. He never thought an angel could get depressed, because it was such a conflicting emotion, but he wouldn't rule it out anymore. Something was most definitely wrong with him, he felt so empty and worthless all the time now and no matter what he did to try and rectify it all, he still felt the same by the end of the day. He could even look at Sam and Dean in the eye anymore. Sam's gaze he purposely ignored because whenever the younger Winchester would send that look at him, the look that would make anyone reveal their secrets, fears and insecurities ... he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out on that look and so he didn't catch it. He ignored it and hoped Sam would stop trying. He couldn't help. Now with Dean's gaze, it was the same and completely different. Those green eyes of his had once filled Castiel with a sense of happiness, of hope and faith, of being whole, even home. Maybe even love. They could ground him but also make him feeling like he was flying at dangerous speeds and for some reason he liked it. He found it hard to look into them now though, not because the feeling they gave him had changed, but because it had intensified, not only along with Castiel's own emotions but with what the angel guessed were the elder Winchester's emotions too. If he stared too long he knew he'd break.

It scared him because he didn't know how. He didn't have a clue how he would break, he just knew he would. Whether it would be like with Sam, or if he would cry, or if he would get angry again and lash out, or if he would finally have that mental break down that seemed to be on each of their minds, or if he would open up to Dean like he had no one else, not even his father: telling him how he felt, not just about Naomi, but more about heaven, about purgatory and him. About Dean and how Castiel truly felt no matter how hard he had tried to repress it.

No, Castiel: the Broken Angel of Thursday, didn't know how it was going to happen. All he did know was that when those forest green eyes that he could once get lost in once, would turn their gaze on his azure blue and he let them, he would shatter.

And the outcome was now a betting mans game.

* * *

_17th December:_

It was almost a week later when the angel finally spoke about something that wasn't a hunt.

Dean was alone with Cas in their latest motel room, Sam had stepped out to gather a late lunch and Dean was busy ironing their FBI suits ready for an interview with a distraught loved-one tomorrow morning. They were currently in a small town somewhere in Ohio that Dean couldn't remember the name of, their monster of the week was what seemed to be a usual haunting.

Dean had already finished Sam's which was now hung carefully over the back of a chair. He was currently working on his own suit trousers and once again the silence between him and the angel was killing him. He tried to push his thoughts away and out of his mind by being a good little housewife and un-creasing the lines out of the legs with perfect precision and care. He would laugh at Sam for taking this much interest in this certain chore but it was better than focusing on Cas as usual.

As always though, that fucking little angel always has a way of dragging his attention back to him. This time however, Dean was glad in the end. So incredibly elated that it had happened.

He was too busy concentrating that he didn't notice the angel stood less than a foot away from him until the angel called his name. "Dean." Dean's head snapped up and left as soon as the name hit his ear, ignoring how he had almost burned himself with the iron as he clumsily placed it down so it wouldn't burn his suit.

He did his best to fight the smile that was threatening to consume his face. Castiel still wasn't looking at him, he was looking at his chest, which wasn't the floor so Dean saw that as progress. That and the fact that he had said his name. He hadn't said his name in so long he hadn't realised how much he had missed hearing it in the angels low, raspy tones. The smile was fought off because he didn't want to get his hopes up and so he looked at the top of the angels forehead with a questioning expression that his friend wouldn't even see. 'Yeah, Cas?"

Castiel didn't answer straight away and Dean began to worry that the angel regretted trying to speak to him and was going to disappear on him and before he realised what he was doing, Dean had grabbed the angels sleeve, grounding him from a flight that was probably only going to happen in his mind and not the real world. He couldn't help his mind though. It was always over react and over think.

The angel didn't react to it. Not verbally or all that physically anyway, he noticed it though. Dean saw his eyebrows shoot up only to shoot back down all in a second. And though he couldn't see Cas' eyes at this angle, he felt them flicker over to where Dean's hand was grabbing his cuff.

The angel didn't make any move to stop Dean's grasp and so Dean didn't let go. He pressed on instead. "What's up, Cas?" His voice was almost a whisper because if truth be told, he was afraid of the answer. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. There was something that looked different about Cas right now and Dean couldn't place it and it was scaring the shit out of him.

It was when the angel spoke again that Dean recognised what it was about Cas that felt so strange. "I was ... err, wondering ... if you w-would be kind enough to ... iron my overcoat ... for me," Castiel didn't look at him and Dean was having trouble hearing the dude as he spoke so quietly but he got the jist of the request and his eyes went wide as he raked Cas' body from head to toe. That was it. He wasn't wearing that bloody tench coat! He was wearing it earlier but not now. He was standing there in the dark blue suit and tie with the trench coat grasped tightly in his left hand.

It was weird seeing him without it to say the least. He looked less like Cas and more like Jimmy dressed like this and it was kinda creepy to think about. He had to remind himself that that body was no longer Jimmy's but Castiel's own now and he couldn't deny that the angel looked good.

"Please." The plea brought Dean away from the edge of that train of thought and his gaze shifted back to the coat.

It was wrinkled he noticed, Cas mustn't have angel mojoed it to pristine condition today for some reason. Cas could have easily done it now instead of asking Dean to do it the human way but ... something about this seemed to ban Dean from telling the angel this. Something about the way he asked, so out of the blue. The way he had pleaded ...

He wasn't exactly sure why, but Dean knew that for some inane reason it was pivotal that he agree to do this for him. This simple gesture. It had to be done. "Of course," he said, releasing his lingering grip on Cas' sleeve and taking the trench coat from the angel.

His friend didn't say thank you. He didn't need to. He nodded his head slightly and went back to sit on the bed, reading through the research that Sam had been procuring.

Dean sighed and turned back to the ironing board and throwing the coat over his shoulder finished his own suit first. When he laid the tan-monstrosity of wardrobe malfunctions down on the board, the tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips. At first he wasn't entirely sure why he was smiling but then he realised: this was the first time Cas had directly spoken to him about something normal for over a month and engaging it himself, this was also probably the most normal, human thing Castiel had ever asked of him.

He hated that he loved this fucking thing.

* * *

Sam didn't talk much about her to Dean, but when he did Dean could see the adoration in his eyes. The only person able to top that feeling in his brother was Jess, but she was dead, had been for so long now and despite his desire to keep Sam with him as long as he could, Dean was happy that his baby brother Sammy was happy. That _Amelia_made him happy.

Dean knew Sam didn't speak with him about her because he wasn't sure what Dean would say and how he would feel. Truth be told Dean didn't even know. Sure, he wanted Sammy to be happy but he also wanted to be selfish and keep his brother with him. He had no one else and they had been through so much together that Dean wasn't sure how he'd cope with a life without living and hunting with him.

But like he said, he was being selfish. Sam deserved so much more than he had right now. He deserved to be normal, to have a house with a mortgage. A beautiful wife and a normal job. Maybe even little rug-rats running around causing mayhem. They'd definitely cause some mayhem with their father being king moose and all. If Sam deserved all that then maybe Dean deserved the opposite. Maybe Dean deserved for Sammy to leave him. Maybe he deserved to be lonely until he died. Maybe he deserved to hunt alone, without his brother, without a friend, because really, what else was he good for? He couldn't do the college thing like Sam. And as for friends ... well, they always died so what's the point? Hunting was in his blood though, it was the only thing he knew and he enjoyed it. One day Sam would leave for good and though he didn't want to admit it, Dean would let him.

Dean knew what Sam would say if he told his brother about deserving to be alone once Sam leaves. Sam would say that of course he doesn't deserve that. That after everything they've both done for the world that they both deserved to be happy. And that even if Sam left Dean, he would never be alone; he would have Cas. And Sam would always call and force his ass to visit.

But that was the problem. Dean wasn't sure he _did_ have Cas anymore.

* * *

It was a few days after the Naomi incident, when Castiel was back to full health, that the angel began to read Papa Winchester's journal. He had of course read it before but that day was the beginning of when he started to read it almost religiously. Taking in every word as though they were his absentee father's and would answer all his questions.

The second time it happened Sam said that Castiel probably wanted to make sure he has all of the knowledge they did when it came to hunting, seeing as what the angels had done to him meant that he probably couldn't go back up there anymore. Dean agreed. He didn't tell Sam about why he would've hog tied the angel down if he even thought about maybe going up there again. It wasn't his place.

When it became almost a daily thing, Dean began to panic and he knew his brother was too. The not talking was one thing but an obsession was another.

Dean liked to think he didn't know why Cas was reading the journal so much, and every other book they had in between. But at night, when the thoughts plagued him unbidden, he couldn't help but think that maybe he did.

That maybe the reason Cas was absorbing everything about hunting that he could lay his hands on was because he felt useless and this was the only way not to be. Dean didn't understand it if that was the reason, because yeah, Naomi really did a number on him and made him against his will betray the brothers again but it wasn't like any of it was his fault. The angel bitch had used him for her own personal gain and meddled with his mind so he couldn't remember a thing. What happened over a month ago was the tip on the iceberg. And though Dean would gladly give anything so that Cas didn't have to go through that, he was kinda glad he did because now they knew, and now they could try to help. Naomi was long gone, or so Cas thought he wasn't being used anymore, when he was he felt like something was missing but he quite couldn't grasp what: now however he says he doesn't feel like that and so they hope he's being left well enough alone. That sadly was the only time he talked about what happened, to reassure them, then closed himself off behind a wall again.

If he felt worthless then Dean hadn't the slightest idea how he could help when the angel wouldn't talk to him about it. He wanted him to know that he wasn't worthless, that he was worth so much more than Sam and Dean put together but Castiel still wouldn't let even _him_ in and Dean was becoming restless. For once, he just wanted to help. He was more than willing to.

* * *

_18th December:_

It was the week leading up to Christmas and every town they passed through were excitably getting prepared for the holiday. The Impala was void of Christmas talk in any way. It was an unspoken rule that neither Winchester brought up the occasion, seeing as they didn't really celebrate it. And Cas was still too far away to either notice that the world was decorated with cheesy decorations or couldn't bring himself to care to ask.

Just because they didn't celebrate it and never spoke about it didn't mean they didn't acknowledge it. Sam and Dean wouldn't swap gifts, they wouldn't have a real Christmas dinner and they wouldn't watch Christmas movies and decorate their motel room. But they would do the one thing they could, that they always did without thought. Dean would allow Sam to touch the music in the Impala and change it if he so wished, and in return Sam wouldn't bat an eyelid of say a thing about it. Sam would allow Dean to eat, drink, watch and sleep with whoever with reprimanding his brother in words or looks. And he would indulge his brother and not eat a salad on one of the seven upcoming days.

They weren't gifts per say. They were actions, they were barely even throughout actions but it was something they did and would always do for as long as they could.

That's why it came as a shock to Dean when he had the inexplicable urge to get a gift for Cas. Even if the damn angel didn't know what day of the week it was, Christmas was a day for family and the angel would be stripped of that possibility. True, he would have Dean and Sammy, the survivors of his surrogate family but sometimes that wasn't enough. And so Dean really wanted - _needed_to do something nice for the guy.

He had spent the few days prior trying to figure out the best gift to get the angel and late last night when he was driving with Sam asleep in the passenger seat and Cas in the back silent as ever, Dean had boiled it down to two. So, as they pulled up in the car park of their motel for the week, Dean sent Sam and the catatonic angel to sort out the room, telling his brother that he was gonna go buy some beer. No way in hell was he gonna tell Sammy what he was really up to.

He said a quick goodbye to each of them. Sam replied as always: "Bye, Jerk." And Cas moved his gaze from one side to the other. _God_, thought Dean as he began his journey down the road, _I hope this fucking works._

* * *

**A/N: I thought I'd let you know that I already have some of the gift-giving chapter written, so that should be up tomorrow or the next day! **  
**P.S. I really need ideas, so if there are any pranks you'd like to see Gabriel play on the Winchesters, let me know(via PM or review), and I'll put it in one of the upcoming chapters. xxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Character POV: Dean.**

**A/N: AND HERE IT IS! THE GIFT GIVING! This is a day later than I said, but it is a few days earlier than usual so all's fair, right? ****OK. So this is mostly ... feelsy-fluff? If that's such a thing? I dunno. But I hope you like it anyway. :)****xxx**

* * *

Chapter Four

**A Betting Man's Game:**

It was on Christmas Eve that Dean finally managed to pluck up the courage to give Castiel his presents.

Cas was sitting cross-legged on Dean's bed, reading his father's journal once again and Dean was sat opposite at the motel room table, half-heartedly surfing the internet for a hunt. For once though, he really didn't care if he found one or not. Yeah, they didn't really celebrate Christmas. Ever. But they did have an angel of the Lord tagging along with them indefinitely now and despite how recluse said angel had become since the Naomi incident, Dean thought it prudent that they do _something_ to celebrate the day.

Sam had gone out,(taking a leaf out of Dean's pre-purgatory books), to a local bar, leaving his brother alone in the motel room with the angel. Dean could tell that this thing – whatever it was, going on between his baby brother and Amelia was getting to him. Sam tried to hide it with smiles and speeches about how he understands what indecisions Amelia is going through ever since Don came back on the scene out of bloody nowhere. But Dean knows Sam as well as Sam knows Dean and so he could tell that he was down. He hadn't brought any of this up to Sammy though, of course, because that's not when Dean does. He doesn't talk about feelings. _Except recently, _his mind reminded him_, with Cas … Shut up! The dude's going through a lot and he needs to talk. And Sam is going through a lot too so he won't be as helpful as he would normally be. So it's down to me. And why am I talking to myself? _Anyway, dragging his thoughts back to Sam and his drunken meander for tonight, Dean ran his fingers over his closed eyes, adding slight pressure which bypassed pain in an instant and went straight to relief. He hoped Sam wouldn't be gone too long, - long enough for Dean to give Cas what he bought but not long enough that it means Sam had slept with someone. He knew Sammy, and his brother wouldn't be happy about drunkenly sleeping his emotions away once he woke. He like Amelia too much to be able to brush that away. He'd feel guilty even though Dean was sure they weren't even technically 'together' anyway right now.

He had gotten something to hopefully cheer Cas up … maybe he should get something for his brother too? What though, he couldn't think. But he knew that Sam probably thought he'd be spending this Christmas at the opposite end of the spectrum. In a house, with a tree and presents and snow and eggnog probably even freakin' mistletoe. The whole deal. And not with his broken brother who has just realised that hunting monsters is probably the only thing he'll ever do and an angel of the Lord who seems to silently be going through an existential crisis.

Not that either of them could blame Cas for that though. After everything the poor bastard's been through Dean was just glad, more so than he was willing to admit, that Cas was still with them. Alive and kickin'.

Fisting his hands together on the table top, he turned his head to stare out the window. He couldn't see much save for the car park and the conjoining road, both blanketed in snows. So yeah: Sam was out and wasn't gonna be back for some time now, it was the perfect opportunity to do what he wanted; they were alone and wouldn't be disturbed and Sam wouldn't be there to make it more awkward than it was. He never really had friends to give gifts to before and so this started to feel increasingly daunting and he started to feel a little hot. He couldn't do it here. It was too confining and the room felt like it was getting smaller and Dean stood up and went to stand before the angel on his bed. They would go out. "Come on Cas, get up. We're going out."

"I do not wish to go out, Dean," Cas replied, not even caring to look up from the journal resting on one leg.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. "Yeah, well, I want to go out and you're coming with. No exceptions. So get up," he added as he tapped the angel on his free knee.

The touch made Cas close John's journal on his finger and look up at Deans shoulder. When he cocked his head to the side questioningly, Dean could have leapt for joy. "Why?"

"Because I said so that's why."

He still didn't look at him even for the smartass comment. "That's not a legitimate reason, Dean." It sounded as though he was scolding him and was tired of continuously doing so. _Just like old times!_

"Yeah, well … whatever," Dean said, waving his hand through the air to dismiss the matter. "Is the fact that I _want_ you to come a 'legitimate enough reason'?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awaiting the angels reply which didn't seem to be coming any time soon. The only thing Cas did was direct his gaze higher to the side of Dean's head. Dean didn't want to think about how girly that sentence sounded. After all, it wasn't that girly. Nothing that would question his manhood. All he wanted was his friend to go outside with him because the fresh air would do both of them a world of good right not. Just a friendly thing. Caring for a friend.

_Fuck it. Action it is then._

He grabbed his father's journal from Castiel's grip and threw it down onto the bedside table. Cas put up no fight, he just sat there and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet by the strong grip on his elbow. "You gonna come or what?" Dean asked him, trying to catch the angels eyes which were determined to not be caught by his green ones as he did so. He was gonna kick Cas' ass and make him come anyway but he thought it nice to ask.

The angel of Thursday merely nodded in agreement and so Dean turned away from his and dug around in his duffel bag which was laying at the foot of the bed for a spare pair of black gloves. He pulled on his own pair before throwing the extra ones to Cas who caught them with a furrowed brown. "Dean I–"

"–I know you don't need to wear them," Dean cut in as he fixed a scarf around his neck and shrugged on his leather jacket, "but it's fucking ice cold out and you can't walk around without and winter wear on otherwise people will question it. And whatever they say we can't afford to have. So," he said, dragging the word out a little longer as he pulled Sam's scarf from the table where the sasquatch left it and walked over to the angel, stopping before their toes touched, "just wear it, alright?"

Cas didn't answer, just started to pull the gloves on and so Dean took that as a 'yes' and began to tie Sam's scarf around his friends neck, his knuckles grazing against his cheeks and neck. Dean tried not to think of the surprising thoughts about how soft Cas' skin was and how much he wanted to touch every inch of it. _Shit. No. Not happening! _He managed to push those thoughts down, before they could expand into something more explicit, without Cas registering that something was up. He brought the trench coat collar to sit around the blue scarf and despite their distance,(or lack thereof), the angel still wouldn't fucking look at him!

_Damn it!_ Dean was a closed off person when it came to admitting how he felt to someone or about someone, always had been and probably always would be. But it was different with Cas. It was always fucking different with Cas. And whatever it was that made it different scared him a little because he oddly always felt strongly for the stupid angel. At first it was because he raised him from hell, and then it was profound bonds and then it was 'like a brother', and now … well ever since Purgatory he hasn't been entirely sure that it was ever 'like a brother'. Or even like _just_ a best friend. Of course, Cas _was_ his best friend, his _only_ friend and he loved him just as much as he loved Sam. Dean wouldn't be able to live without Sam and he wouldn't be able to live without Cas, yet somehow he knew the feelings were completely different. He tried to put a label on it but he just couldn't. Not yet. He hoped sometime soon though. Maybe tonight if he's lucky and the damn angel would just look at him once again.

He took Castiel's hand in his own without thinking and dragged the angel out of the motel room, not even sparing a glance back to see how his friend took it. Once they were across the car park and walking down the street, did Dean finally let go.

Now, he hadn't really thought through where in the hell he was going. Good plan. But as he faltered in his stride for a moment, it came to him that Cas hadn't ever enjoyed snow before. Sure he's probably seen it but most likely never actually _looked_. And so Dean started off in the direction that he remembered the town square to be with a wrapped up, confused looking angel in tow.

* * *

They walked together in silence, shoulders brushing every once in a while and both sets of eyes looking straight ahead. Cas only broke the silence once to ask Dean where they were going, to which the hunter replied that it was a surprise but he was gonna love it. The angel said no more after that and Dean was only too glad to accept the invitation for once. He was more nervous than he had any right to be. What if he makes a fool of himself? What if Cas hates the gifts? What if Cas gets all high and mighty about how Jesus wasn't even born in December and is angry with him? What if the angel laughs at him? _Oh God, I wouldn't be able to deal with that … this is a bad idea. A very bad idea. It's gonna go terribly wrong and it'll be all my fault and I don't even know what I was thinking. He's a freaking angel of the Lord what the hell would he want to keep material items for? This is stupid. I should just stop. Go back to the motel now. Tell him I'm feeling too tired. It's not like he will care. He won't know what he's missing and I can just get rid of these presents from my pocket as soon as possible with everyone being none the–_

His meditations of fear and overall internal panic were stopped short when his mind was brought back to the world around him and he finally took in the sight before him. When they had arrived at their destination Dean didn't know, he also didn't have the slightest clue when he had stopped walking and gave Cas the impression that this was where he was taking him. Maybe he'd said something without realising? It was possible. He remembered looking at the Christmas lights decorating the large square patch of grass in front of the town hall when they drove into town almost a week ago. It was the middle of the day then and so they weren't switched on and so he didn't see their wonder. They were everywhere. Along telephone wires, encircling lampposts, in the trees. Every colour of the rainbow. And they were _bright_. Incredibly so. Making the thick blanket of snow in the middle of it all seem all the whiter. But it wasn't the decorations or the snow that had caught his attention and made his breath hitch in his throat. Of course, the added to the spectacle but what really filled his mind … was _Cas_.

Cas. Castiel. Angel of Thursday.

Dean had never seen him look so much like an angel before. And that's including the times he's seen the shadows of the guys wings.

Castiel was standing a distance in front of him, on the snow covered grass and he was turning ever so slowly in a circle as he took every minute detail around him in. Dean couldn't help but look at him. At his dark hair that somehow looked messy but neat at the same time: his deep blue eyes that for the first time he could see in over a month, even if they weren't focused on him: his gloved hands that were held limply at his sides as he turned: every movement he made was so fucking graceful. Dean was kinda jealous. The lights shone down on him from every angle, making the shadow of his lean frame be cast down across the snow in all directions. Dean tried his best to gauge the angels reaction, to try and tell what he was feeling. If he liked it. Of course, Cas had always been hard to read with that almost constant stoic expression of his giving nothing away, but Dean needed to know. To know if he should carry on or not. And when Castiel finally did a full circle and stopped to face Dean, and when those blue eyes of his finally clicked into place where they belonged and where once again looking into Dean's soul. The hunter knew there was only one word for what he was seeing; beautiful.

And he no longer needed to ask. He knew. He had done good.

He had to plough on. "Hey, Cas," he called quietly through the meter-or-so distance that separated them, "do you know what day it is?"

"It's a Monday," Castiel answered, matter-of-factly, "and today's the day that you humans call 'Christmas Eve'."

"Yeah," Dean smiled, not yet willing to break to eye-contact in case it didn't happen again after this, "it's Christmas Eve. Christmas Day tomorrow where most families give each other gifts to … er … well, I suppose to show how much they care for each other." Castiel didn't say anything, he just stood there, staring, waiting for Dean to continue. He was scared. He was always scared but he wanted to do this. To show that he cared for Cas. That he wanted him to get better and be his friend again. So after a moment of silence between them, Dean carried on, "And I … er … got something for … you. Two things, actually and I wanted to give them to you, today. _Now_ … if you want … I mean you don't have to … I can always take them back–" His gaze had begun to falter as he rambled and panicked again, and he was on the verge of reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the angel before he was cut off.

"–you got me presents?" Cas asked and Dean locked their eyes into place once more. His voice was quiet and if Dean tried hard enough he was sure he heard a little bit of disbelief in there somewhere.

"Yeah, Cas. Of course I got you presents."

"Did you get Sam any?" the angel asked as if he didn't look so genuinely interested Dean would've thought the question sounded a little accusing. Rightly so though because Dean hadn't gotten Sam anything. But then again as far as Dean was certain Sam didn't get him anything either because that's not what they did. And so Dean told Cas this, that the two of them didn't really celebrate Christmas and they never truly had except that one time before he went to Hell. And of course Cas took this all in and understood it all, because that's what he did. That was before Cas knit his brow in confusion and took a single step forward and asked: "Why then did you buy me something, if you don't celebrate the holiday?"

"Because I wanted to," Dean answered truthfully before he could stop himself.

The angel frowned. "But I haven't gotten you anything." And damn did he look sorry about that.

"It's fine," Dean assured him, joining him on the grass, closing the distance so they were only inches apart, yet far enough away for Dean to be able to give him the gifts without it being awkward, "you don't have to get me anything." 'Just get better,' was left unsaid but Dean thought that maybe Cas knew what he was getting at because something flashed in his eyes, something like recognition before it was doused out and replaced with curiosity. "And remember, I got you two things."

"You didn't need to get me anything either, Dean," Cas reprimanded him and it sounded just like when he said that he couldn't save everyone though he tried, as though they were both on the same level of self-loathing. But when Dean gave him a look he shut up and looked mildly excited about the prospect of receiving something. "What are they?" he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke.

God he shouldn't be this nervous. They were just presents. Nothing special. "Erm … well, the first one is … well – just – here." He reached into his jacket pocket, which were surprisingly big, where he had been keeping the presents for the last few days and pulled out the bigger one. They weren't wrapped, but it was the thought that counts anyway, right? He gave to gift a once over before handing it to its recipient. He realised too late that the gifts actually had something in common. Cas. The first gift was a journal. A blank journal of the angels own. It had dark brown leather binding and it was kept shut by leather straps tied around the journal. On each end of the leather strap was a navy blue bead. Well, this was awkward. Even if the angel didn't realise it.

"It's a journal," Cas remarked quietly as he traced his fingers over the material as though it were the first bible ever written.

"Yeah, it's a … well … you've been reading my dad's journal a lot recently y'know and you've also been quiet like … as dead as a door nail quiet. I mean, I get that what happened these last couple of years has gotten to you and after what that bitch did to you once you were out of Purgatory - you have every right to have some sort of angel styled mental breakdown or whatever. And I know that I am the last person to be saying this because … well, I don't talk about _anything_. But you should. In fact I'm 100% sure you _need_ to. And for some reason more than anything I'd like you to talk to me. But I understand that maybe you just can't right now … and if I have to wait I'll wait. Gladly. But for now I brought you the journal, it's blank and waiting to be filled. I thought that you could do what dad did with his and put all your supernatural knowledge into, and also, maybe write down what you're feeling or something. If you don't wanna talk to me or Sam. It'll be good for you to get it out even if it's just jotting in down on paper. I know how it is to have things weigh down on you and getting them out any possible way you can is such a damn relief. And lately I've been so … worried … about you. And, yeah – just – I don't know … you can write and maybe one day you'll be able to show it to me, or tell me what it says yourself … I don't – just – yeah, there it is."

He ended his sort of speech by coughing into his hand and drawing his gaze away from the journal in Cas' hands to chance a glance at the angel himself. His friend wasn't looking at him, but at his present. And for the second time tonight Dean's breath caught in his throat. Cas was looking at the journal as though it were the word of God himself, as though it was the best thing Dean could have ever gotten him. And maybe it was. He hoped it was. If Cas' face was anything to go by then, yeah, he got it right. "It's beautiful, Dean," Castiel said when he felt Dean's eyes on him and turned his head to look right back. "Thank you." There was something in his tone, in his eyes, that let Dean know that he wasn't just talking about the journal, of course the journal itself was a kind gift but it was the thought behind it that Cas was mostly commenting on. Dean didn't even want to suppress the grin that overtook his features next.

"Here," said Dean, holding out his hand for the book. Cas hesitated at first but place it delicately into the hunters hand. "Keep it in your coat for now," he told him as he dropped it into one of the trench coats pockets, "I have something else to give you, remember?"

Castiel looked shocked that Dean was going to give him something else after that. The gift must've cleared his mind of the prior knowledge or something. Dean smiled again, lightly at that. "Calm down, buddy. It's just something small, relax."

"You don't–"

"–I do," Dean said stubbornly and the angel closed his mouth and nodded jerkily for the hunter to continue.

Ok, if he thought the journal was awkward, then the second gift was going to be more so. He wasn't even sure if Cas would like it. You see, he had gotten the angel a necklace. He didn't even know why he did so but he did because it reminded him of Cas and he just couldn't help himself. But now, as he reaches into his pocket once more to pull it out, he falters. Because why on earth would an angel want to wear jewellery? Like, really? Maybe this was a bad idea. The journal: that turned out alright. More than alright. But a necklace? Like … no. Even though he himself had gotten one from Sammy all those years ago … maybe Cas wouldn't like it. It was exactly very, well, _Cas_. _Crap. Now he's looking at me oddly. Wondering why it's taking so long. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wraps his hand around the necklace in his pocket and pulls it out roughly. Holding it in the air between them. The silver pendant on the end swinging wildly in the space.

"It's a necklace," Cas whispered, looking at it, in the same tone that he said 'it's a journal'. Dean didn't say anything, didn't trust himself to speak, so instead he gently placed the necklace onto Cas' palm. The pendant sitting in the middle and the string falling over the side of his hand. Cas looked down at the engraving, as did Dean. It was simple. It was of two black angel wings. When he saw it in the store he just couldn't help himself, the reminded him of the shadows of Castiel's wings he had seen, and he bought it without a second thought. The angel didn't say anything, he just kept staring. And then Dean realised that they didn't have to say anything. Because they both knew. The label had come tonight, like he had hoped: love.

Dean took the necklace's cord into his hand again and pulled it from Cas' palm. The angel didn't object, or even make a sound. He just watched as the hunter undid the fastening, stepped forward, completely closing the gap between them and brought the necklace around his neck. One arm encircling him on either side, Dean squinting in the darkness to clasp the fastening into place again, their cheeks so close yet not touching, still able to feel the heat radiating off the other. When the necklace was securely in place Dean loosened Cas' scarf, so he could place the necklace under his collar and shirt, before tightening it around his neck again. He wanted it to mean something to Cas, maybe just like what the amulet Sam had given him had meant to Dean. He didn't ever want the angel to take it off. He wanted Cas' to not want to ever take it off.

Dean retracts his hands and lets them hand at his sides. He draws back ever so slightly, leaving their faces the closest they've probably ever been. Noses almost touching. "It reminded me of you," he says quietly and there's a ghost of a smile on the angels lips. Yet he still doesn't say a thing. Before he can stop himself, Dean leans forward and closes the gap entirely, gently pressing his lips to the angels. It's not hot and heavy and hungry. It's not making out. It's barely even a kiss. It's just a long, warm, passionate peck that after a heartbeat that Dean's heart didn't take, the angel presses back, his own vision joining Dean's in darkness as his eyes flutter shut. It's barely even there. It's loving.

He's scared to open his eyes. To see what reaction the angel will make. Because yeah, Dean's been beating around this bush for some time now and yeah the angel kissed back but this was Cas and he was so fucking nervous in case he was wrong.

His fears were dumbfounded though, and he realised this as he slowly opened his eyes as looked down at the angel who still had his eyes closed. And yet he wasn't hiding from Dean, because there it was. A smile. A true smile that Dean was sure he had never seen on the angel before. And he can't help but smirk as he says: "Cas, you're smiling."

If it's possible the angel smiled even brighter before answering seriously. "It's because I'm happy, Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, and he know he sounds a shit ton of scared and hopeful at once.

"Yes," Castiel replied instantly and Dean's heart constricts. Because Cas is happy. For the first time since Naomi, Cas is truly happy and it's because of Dean. Because he kissed him. Because he got him those gifts. Because of _him_ … and Dean says 'me too'.

"Dean?" Cas asked as Dean runs his nose up the length of Cas' own, stopping when he reaches the top to place his mouth on the top of his head, just where the hairline meets his forehead.

Dean breathes in the scent of Castiel's hair before answering. "Yeah?"

"I think it's three things now."

"Yeah," Dean laughed and places a soft caress on the angels head, "yeah, I think so too."

* * *

They don't do it again and they don't talk about it. Not for a while anyway. Because despite how much they both want to discuss it, to discuss each other. They can't. Not just yet, because Dean has priorities and at the top of the list is to get Cas better, to make him happy in life and in himself again. And the angel knows this. And the angel wants this even if he's not sure he deserves it. They both silently cherish the moment though. And Dean sees Cas writing in the journal when he wakes up on Christmas morning and every day after. And Cas never takes the necklace off, and has this thing where he finds himself playing with it whenever he watches Dean sleep.

Cas had finally brought himself to look into Dean's eyes again and like he said, it had been a betting man's game. The outcome, well, it had started but it hadn't truly unraveled yet. It wouldn't for a little while and Cas was ok with that. Because he had feared that it would go the complete opposite way and he would've lost Dean forever. But it had seemed that when he was looking he had gained Dean forever. And he could bring himself to wait until he got better to cash that in. After all, he had waited a million lifetimes. He could wait a little bit more.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, so ... hmm ... what do you think? I'm not too sure but maybe that's just me. And I'm pretty sure the tense jumps around in some places(my fault, because I'm half asleep right now but oh well, I wanted to get this up so sue me!).**

**I'm dunno ... let me know what you think? Were the gifts good?**

**xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Character POV: Gabriel**.

* * *

Chapter Five

**Time Out Is Now 'Time Off':**

Now Michael should never have told Gabriel to find something other than irritating Lucifer for entertainment. Because despite his brother telling him not to get into mischief, he did, because really, when is Gabriel ever going to listen to that?

So, really he only half-didn't listen to Michael's wishes, he stopped trying to get a rise out of Lucifer(for now), and pulled his attention to annoying the hell out of his other brothers and sisters as well as the new fledglings. He hadn't actually seen much of Michael since that day in the Hall, - well, technically _Michael_ hadn't seen much of _Gabriel, _the trickster had in fact seen lots of Michael, - his older brother was pissed at him for his numerous pranks and had been searching for him whenever he got a free moment. Of course, Michael should have learned by now that you don't play hide-and-seek with an archangel/trickster and expect to win. Especially an angel that fooled his entire family into thinking he was dead.

Michael was never able to find him during any of these sessions of cat-and-mouse and Gabriel was having far too much fun to let himself be caught any time soon. Michael could be such a buzz kill sometimes.

Balthazar helped him out a few times, like with his most recent prank that left more than a few of his brothers and sisters with burns all over(Michael Gabriel knows, is going to be particularly pissed off with him for this when he finds out). _Can't wait._ Yet, there were oftentimes when Balthazar would suddenly just up and leave in the middle of something claiming that he had some important business to attend to and Gabriel wouldn't see him for a while. Not that he moped around and cried over how much he missed him, - having a partner in crime was just handy in some cases and Balthazar enjoys being a troublemaker just as much as he.

He had always been nosy and so he was more than curious as to what Balthazar was blatantly hiding from him. He would ask him straight up and if he didn't tell him then he would just have to find out for himself. Any means necessary.

The smirk that played at his lips as he got more comfortable on the branch, resting his back against the tree trunk, stayed put and only grew marginally bigger when the angel in question appeared beneath him.

"Ah, there you are, Gaby. Thought I'd never find you."

Gabriel shook his head, not bothering to look down at his brother. "It's not exactly like I'm hiding, Balthazar."

"Yes, well, I think you should kick your arse into gear and start before Michael finds you," Balthazar commented as he turned on his heel and sat down against the tree, his legs splayed out in silent invitation to all. _Slut, _Gabriel thought, but then remembers that sometimes he's no better and lets it go.

"Why? What's up with Halo-boy? That time of the month again so soon?"

He heard Balthazar chuckle below and lets himself do the same and he listens with a content smile on his face when his brother replied: "Unfortunately: yes. And you know what it's like with him, exceedingly large amounts of fragile emotional baggage follows him around at these times. And add all that to the fact that he's been practically keening to read you the riot act for quite some time now. In all honesty I wouldn't be surprised if that brother of ours resorted to violence when he finally susses you out."

Gabriel couldn't stop the snort that leaves his nose. Yeah, he'll admit it. He fucking loves Balthazar.

"Oo, and I'm quaking in my boots," he retorted half-heartedly.

He could hear Balthazar's smirk when he said: "You do know how badly you hurt those poor dears, don't you?"

"Yeah, well … the explosion wasn't supposed to be that big. Wasn't my fault it backfired at the last minute, was it?"

"No, of course not," Balthazar agreed in a tone that suggests otherwise, "it was all a terrible misunderstanding. A tiny little mistake. A funny one though," he added in an undertone loud enough for the archangel to hear.

Gabriel leaned his head back and closed his eyes, tugging absentmindedly at his jacket cuff. "Of course it was funny, it was my idea."

"I worry about you sometimes, Gaby."

"Yeah and people don't worry about _you_ enough, Balthazar. You're one of those silent types that people think answer everything sarcastically because you have nothing better to say, when in reality you're just watching everybody to find their weakness and you won't even hesitate to use it against them once you do." When his brother is silent below him, he decided to draw the Michael conversation around to a close instead. "To be honest, Balth," he began, his voice light, "I don't really care if Michael finds me or not. If he does then well done to him for that feat! He can do what he pleases to me. I'm more concerned with the bigger issue going on right now."

"Yeah? And what's that then?" Balthazar asked, not really interested. Gabriel looked down at him the same time he looked up. Golden-brown meeting steely-blue.

"You," Gabriel answered, tipping his head in his brothers direction as he does, loving the sight of slight confusion running across his face. Only slight confusion, of course, because his brother is hiding something and he knows that Gabriel knows he is.

Balthazar pouted his lips, shaking his head in the negative, "I don't have the fuzziest idea what you're saying."

_Even if he won't admit it, _the trickster sighed to himself.

"Of course you don't. You're not hiding anything at all. No matter how small."

"I can tell you now, dear, I haven't a single secret," Balthazar said straightening his face and staring the archangel down.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and jumped down to stand in front of him. "Maybe not a secret, per say … but you're hiding something nonetheless. And I want to know what you keep running off to do all the time, brother."

"What if I don't want to tell you?" Balthazar asked, tilting his head back and to the side and looking his brother up and down.

"Oh, you know me. Big things come in small packages and stuff." They both smiled because, yeah, they're five. "And if you don't tell me I'll find a way to find out myself."

Balthazar huffed and cricks out his neck before standing too, basically towering over his brother and he looked down at him. "I really don't doubt that for a second," he speculated, "I know the things you can do because I do some of them myself. So," he said, smiling brightly, "you really want to know?"

Gabriel nodded. "Always."

"It's really not that exciting if I'm honest, Gaby. You might be a little disappointed with how terrible senile it actually is. In comparison to the things I've hidden in the past and what I will probably hide in the future."

"Just tell me, Balthazar," Gabriel nearly begged, "I don't care if it's boring. I can probably find some way to spice it up if I want to. Just tell me."

"Fine," Balthazar spat out the word like he really didn't want to. "I've been going to see Jacob. Well 'seeing' isn't probably the correct terminology–"

"–Oh, please don't tell me you've been fucking the guy!"

His brother actually full-blown laughed at that and takes a minute to compose himself because Gabriel was still looking at him uncertainly. "No, no no! Definitely not," he managed to wheeze out before taking in a shaky breath and continuing, "I suppose I should elaborate before that dirty mind of yours thinks up new things. When I said it wasn't the correct terminology I meant it because I've not just been talking to him but trying my very damnedest to … well … bribe him? I suppose …"

Gabriel frowned though inside he's more than a little intrigued. "What the hell are you trying to bribe Jacob for?" he wondered aloud and Balthazar took a step back, pulling his v-neck down and needlessly pulling the lapels of his blazer closer around his chest.

"Well I don't know about _you_," he said, pointing at Gabriel as if there were more than two angels around, "but I for one am already tired of this bloody house arrest thing we've got going on and I've been trying to do whatever it takes to get Jacob to just raise the topic with Father about shortening our time-out-from-earth."

"Did he take any of the bait you dangled in front of him?" Gabriel pressed, "_Please_ tell me he did. It's been what? A year up here already? I'm going crazy and Michael's gonna kill me if I get any worse. I need to stretch my wings on earth for the good of us all."

Balthazar pursed his lips, trying not to laugh, Gabriel could tell. "You're right about you and Michael, maybe I should have used that excuse and we'd have been let out sooner," he mused, not looking at Gabriel, whom knows that his own face was probably full of hope at his words.

"You mean … we're allowed out? _Right_? We're getting out? Tell me we're getting out Balth!"

"Calm down, Gabriel, you'll break something," Balthazar mock admonished. "You're right, though. Yes, it's been a year and so Father has lifted the ban and we're finally allowed to leave Heaven if we wish. Though, we're not allowed to _leave_ Heaven but we are allowed breaks."

The glint that Gabriel knew now shone in his eyes(because many people have commented on it), was pure mischief and malice. He actually started jumping up and down on the spot, grabbing Balthazar's arm and trying to get him to join in because fucking hell they could leave and have so much fun down on earth! "This is great! More than great …"

"It's fucking fantastic," Balthazar supplied and Gabriel smirked almost devilishly.

"Hells yeah!" He licked his lips and looks his brother in the eye. "We can leave whenever right?"

"Yes," Balthazar noded slowly, "though apparently Father wants us to go to the Winchester's and Castiel first or something."

"What for?" Gabriel questioned, not that he hasn't thought about this. Really, it's something he had been planning to do for a long time now.

Balthazar shrugged. "Probably just to pop in and say 'hello, we're not dead anymore. How are you?'" He smiled and continued after a beat. "Also, we're not allowed to mention a thing about Michael, Lucifer, Adam or the cage and if we're asked how we're alive we have no idea."

Gabriel scoffed, "Of course not. Not like Father to make things easy, right?"

"Nope," Balthazar agreed and Gabriel could see the annoyance in his face so he asked what was up. "It's just … on top of that, we're not even allowed to tell Cassie that all is forgiven. Apparently we have to wait for Michael to do that deed. Whenever it is."

"I'm sure he won't make him wallow that long in self-pity, Balth," Gabriel tried his best to reassure him. "Even he's not that mean when it comes to that little angel of Thursday."

His brother only gave him a look that clearly states: 'have you seen what that angel's been put through the last couple of years?' And sadly, Gabriel couldn't deny that so he did what he could and changed the topic to something much more fun!

"Alright!" He jumped back with a grin plastered on his face. "I state that our first break takes place right this instant and I already have most of it planned out for our entertainment. Though I could use your help, bro."

"Any time," Balthazar said as Gabriel clicked his fingers and the two of them disappeaedr from beneath the tree, flying down to earth without a second thought.

* * *

**A/N: It's short because it's just a little intr****oduction for what's to come in the next few chapters. *hint hint* It's Gabriel and Balthazar annoying the hell out of Team Free Will with stupid pranks and spells.**

**Also, thanks for the reviews! They make me smile more than you can imagine. I lost a follower though(didn't know people actually did that), and I'm wondering what was wrong with the last chapter for that to happen ... is it because I kinda made Destiel cannon? Or because I dangled it then took it away again? **

**Either way: sorry but that's how I roll. **

**(Everyone else enjoy! and ignore what my insecure mind is saying).**


	6. Chapter 6

**Character POV: Dean/Balthazar/Gabriel.**

* * *

Chapter Six

**He Looks So Innocent:**

There was something new that Cas had adopted that Dean hadn't told Sam about, he wasn't sure why he hadn't but he felt like it should be kept between the two of them. It was this: whenever Castiel would get apprehensive, worried or someone was making him feel awkward, the angel would press the tip of his fingers against the elbow of Dean's left arm. Always the left arm. When it first happened he thought the angel was just trying to get his attention, but when he had looked, the angel wasn't even looking at him, though Dean could tell he looked put-out by something. It was a woman, standing way too close to be kind. Dean had gotten rid of her and Castiel had retracted his fingers. When it happened again, when Dean had been hurt on a hunt, or something reminded him of heaven, Dean would gently push his elbow back into the touch, and send a small smile his way before trying to rectify what had bothered the guy.

It had started after Christmas and had been going on for a month now.

They were in a small town somewhere in the middle of Indiana now, on a case, and the bane of the trio this week was a coven of witches. Four of them, all high school girls, and for high school girls these sons of bitches were fucking brutal. They brought down their wrath on their victims who supposedly 'deserved it' like there was no tomorrow. Each death was different. Each murder disgusting.

There had been five so far and the Winchester's weren't sure if there were going to be more as of yet. The first four had been one from each member of the coven, and the fifth, someone who had 'wronged' them all. Even if their set-out work had been done, they knew the Winchester's were on to them, and they were truly evil witches. So it was a race against time: get them before they got the hunters. Sam and Dean had searched the room for any signs of a hex bag, which brought up nothing. So Sam had gone out to check the Impala, under threath from Dean that if he so much as scratched Baby's upholstery, there would be hell to pay.

Castiel was sat on the edge of Dean's bed, cleaning a few of the guns, just how Dean had shown him not too long ago, as the elder hunter got ready, taking his gun from the angel once he was done and arming himself also with a knife. As they waited for Samantha, Dean couldn't stop himself from thinking on the murders the coven had brought about.

The first had been, as cliche as it was, an ex-partner. Who had, as the word around the high school was, cheated on the first witch, Claire, at a house party when obscenely intoxicated. Claire never forgave him and in her twisted mind revenge hadn't been sleeping with his best friend or anything of the sort but making him bleed to death through his dick whilst in the middle of doing the nasty. Poetic justice? If it weren't so nasty, Dean would have to say so.

The second had been a priest from the local church. Poor dude had been killed by, who they guessed was Hayley, because she was the only person the town had seen yell at the priest, also, she was the only witch in the coven that was gay. And some text about how gay's deserve to go the heaven too had been carved into the old guys chest as he was strung up from the rafters. Cas had said how his death was unfortunate seeing as God doesn't care about sexuality and if two people of the same sex loved each other. He had gone quiet until they checked the next body after mumbling something about if only the bible had gotten that right.

The third, was a married man. And he choked on a dozen wedding bands. The importance of this, they weren't sure. An unfaithful marriage, maybe? The wife seemed to have no inclination of her husband ever being unfaithful, but they were tied to a third girl, who hung around with the other two witches, and her name was Zoe.

They had just rolled into town when they became aware of a fourth murder. The parents of the fourth friend: Darcy. They had interviewed her, and she was an excellent actress that the hunters almost believed her when she told them of an intruder, but the angel had shoved that away, proclaiming he had been able to feel her power. She was a witch and her mark was all over her parents bodies.

They tailed her then, that night after interviewing the people around town about the other murders, as she met up with the other three, showing them that their hunch of more than one witch was working their magic here. They followed them as they went to their school, not a lot of people were around, one or two teachers cars still parked in the car park. Fearing the worst, the three hunters followed the witches into the school and the sports hall. They were too late, however to save their latest victim. A Mr Hartley. They weren't sure what the connection was other than 'teacher', they didn't really care anymore they just wanted the witches ganked. But they had fled before either of them could get a hit or shot in. No one knew where they had gone, they hadn't returned home and Cas said that they probably holed up somewhere private. Where they would meet as a coven. And it was almost 24 hours later that Castiel was able to locate them. They were in an old barn, on the outskirts of town. And that's why they were getting locked and loaded. Ready to hunt.

When Dean was ready, which took no time at all, he sat on the bed and helped the angel.

"Do you think this will be easy?" Castiel asked him, Dean could tell he wasn't nervous in the slightest, just starting conversation.

"Nah," Dean replied, waving the gun in his hand dismissively, "not like we haven't done anything like this before, right? Just a bunch of silly teenage girls who've gone dark side. No biggy."

Cas smiled slightly as he smashes the clip in the last gun and puts it in his own pocket. He didn't really need a gun, but he carried one anyway, he wanted to be a hunter and hunters carry guns and now so did he. "Of course, you're right, Dean. It is horrible to see such young creatures turn so blindly to evil, though," the angel lamented and Dean's heart went out to him, because he sounded so sincere, so distraught that this happens at all.

"Yeah, I know, Cas. But it's out of our hands now. They did bad stuff ... really bad stuff, and they won't stop. It's part of the job, sadly. You're alright about doing this though, aren't you?"

The angel cocked his head and looked at Dean as though he was searching for something before murmuring in a defiant tone: "Of course, Dean."

* * *

"You know what he looks like when he does that?" Gabriel asked Balthazar as they stood, side by side, before the hunter and the angel.

They hadn't been there long, arrived just before the short conversation had picked up. Everyone but each other were deaf and blinded to their presence, even Castiel wouldn't be able to sense their grace's. If he did then it would be over and they wouldn't be able to have their fun.

"What?" said Balthazar, looking at their brother, trying to figure it out himself anyway.

"A kitten, and innocent little kitty-cat," Gabriel gushed, "I just wanna squeeze his little cheeks." Balthazar looked at him funny and he stops. "But then again, this brother of ours isn't exactly so innocent anymore ... so maybe not a kitten ... but a cat. Those bloody things are always trying to kill me, I swear!"

Balthazar snorted and walked over to sit on the other bed. "That's probably because you're the kind of person to dangle a mouse before a cat and never allow it the catch the rodent. You'd probably enlarge the mouse so it could eat the damn cat."

"Hmm," Gabriel rubbed his chin thoughtfully, pacing before the two oblivious idiots on the other bed. "That's actually pretty good. Might do that sometime. Thanks, bro!"

"Don't mention it," Balthazar dismissed it, rolling his eyes and falling onto his back on the bed with a huff, rubbing his fingertips along his stomach absentmindedly. "Hey," he said after a while of thought, "how did you even get us here so quickly, the Winchester's have those sigils engraved onto their ribs, don't they?"

"Yeah they do, courtesy of our baby bro, Castiel," Gabriel answered, as he waves a hand between Castiel and Dean as they have one of those 'let's-stare-at-each-other-like-we're-the-only-one's-left-on-earth-and-act-like-we-don't-realise-we-do-this' moments. "But I didn't home in on them but on Cas. He may not be using angel radio and all that, not connecting himself to heaven anymore, but I am an archangel after all and I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"You have more than a few."

"Fine. I have more than a few 'ordinary, no-trickster-tricks, just angel magic' tricks up my sleeve. Like finding the angel when he doesn't want to be found."

"Well done, I'm so proud of you," Balthazar mocked, raising his head from the mattress to fake cry with glee for Gabriel to see. "Now when exactly are we going to start this whole plan? I'm getting bored already."

"We've been here five minutes."

"Precisely. I'm surprised you haven't blown them up and put them together again after two minutes in here."

"I'm not that impatient," Gabriel huffed indignantly, throwing himself of the bed next to Balthazar, checking that neither Cas nor Dean saw the bed move. They didn't, they were too busy planning an attack or whatever.

Balthazar shook his head, sitting up as he did so to be level with his brother. "Most of the time you are and you know it. But I guess it doesn't matter now. We have a long time of pranks ahead of us. I just want to know what it starts."

"When the moose gets back and they start their hunt," Gabriel replied, throwing his legs over Balthazar's and lying down along the length of the bed.

"Why when the hunt starts?"

"Because that way, they'll have someone to blame and they won't go searching for the actual thing that did it: us."

"Ah, good plan," Balthazar commented, getting it as he stands, stretching the kinks out of his back and grinning wildly when the moose in question walked through the door, proclaiming that Dean's beloved Impala is also free of hex bags.

"Good," said the elder brother, "let's get going then."

The two angels watched as the three of them filed out of the motel room and clambered into the Impala slowly. Balthazar was about to fly off to the barn to get an early seat but Gabriel grabbed him before he could disappear and answered Balthazar's questioning glance. "If we can't start just yet, I want to have a little fun first. So, follow me." And in a second they were both in the backseat of the Impala, next to their brother and behind the two Winchester's. Rock music was playing, but not that loud, they could barely hear it, actually.

* * *

Castiel sat in the back of the Impala, he's only sat shotgun a few times recently, and he relishes in those moments more than he can explain, but he also liked sitting alone in the back. Here he could think without his gaze shifting over to watch the older Winchester as he drives, making his thoughts fly out the window.

It doesn't take long to get to the barn, about ten minutes, Cas had calculated. It goes quickly, but not without conversation. No matter how strange.

It began when Cas was just sitting there, minding his own business, when a breeze shoots past his ear. Now, as an angel this doesn't affect him like it would a human, it doesn't make him cold, but it does make him shiver and a little uneasy. When it happened again and again, it became irritating and before he realises what he's done, he's snapped at Dean to shut the window.

"What the hell, Cas?!" Dean exclaimed, turning his head for a second to glare at the angel in the backseat. "The window isn't even open and what's with the sudden tone, man?"

"It's not open?" Castiel asked uncertainly. "Not even Sam's?"

"Nope, mine isn't open either, Cas," Sam answered, looking at the angel with a worried expression. "What's up?" he asked, and he was giving Cas that look that Dean could never deny and for some reason he found that neither could he.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to snap. It's just, I felt a breeze and it was annoying."

"A breeze?"

Castiel sighed. "Yes. But it's stopped now, maybe it was my imagination."

* * *

"Blowing in his ear, really? Aren't you being a bit childish?"

"I'll admit I have my moments," Gabriel granted Balthazar as he shrugged, then leant over to do it to again. Balthazar shook his head, not the slightest bit amused, and rested his head against the window, watching the street pass by quickly as they drove.

Balthazar didn't like this car. Yes ... she's pretty, he'll easily give Dean Winchester that, but he didn't like riding in her when could already be at their intended destination in a blink, instead of sitting in the backseat of the Impala whilst his brother teases his other brother by blowing in his ear every five seconds. Balthazar jumped and hit his head on the window when Castiel suddenly snapped at Dean to shut the window. Mistaking Gabriel's breath for a breeze.

He snapped his head to scowl at Gabriel who had begun laughing at him. Balthazar hit him upside the head and hissed at him to shut the hell up or he'll make himself visible now; ending their fun before it started.

This shut the doubled over archangel up and drew both of their attentions to the conversation going on between the cars other inhabitants.

"Yes," said Cas, his head turned downward. "But it's stopped now, maybe it was my imagination."

He looks so dispondent for yelling at the human and confused by the breeze he could feel but not place that Balthazar can't help but feel a little bad for Cassie when Gabriel sang: "You're going crazy, Cassie!" And blew in his ear one last time.

The angel of Thursday visibly started at tat and instantly threw out his arm to run through the air and then along the upholstery of the backseat. "Oh!" Gabriel exclaimed, a look of sheer alarm crossed his features when Castiel's hand reaches his lap. "I'm getting celestially groped by my baby brother. Dear God, make it stop! This is so wrong!" Apparently though, it isn't 'so wrong' when his hand sweeps away past Gabriel and over Balthazar's crotch instead; then it's just plain hilarious. Balthazar narrowed his eyes and the archangel snapped his mouth shut. Castiel pulled his hand away, resting it back in his lap. The pair watched as he stared down the thin air as if it had posed him a particularly hard riddle. They knew however, that their brother was merely scanning the car for a supernatural presence besides his own, when he didn't find anything, he pressed his lips together briefly before turning to watch the back of Dean's head, seemingly satisfied as they drove on.

When they were three minutes away from their destination, Balthazar turned to Gabriel and said: "I don't know why you got so dramatic about being felt up, it's not like you've never fucked another angel before."

Gabriel gasped, placing a hand over his heart and looked at his brother with mock-horror. "Balthazar! Such foul language does not become you!" Bloody drama queen, Balthazar thought sharply as he gave his brother a Sam Winchester inspired bitch-face. "Yeah, alright," Gabriel relented, "that's of course true. But this is Cassie," Balthazar nodded, understanding completely what Gabriel was getting at.

Castiel was like Gabriel's baby brother, he will annoy him to hell but if anyone tries to hurt him, he might just kick their ass if he has the time. Gabriel was like Balthazar's favourite cousin and partner in crime, and Balthazar used to be Castiel's closest friend. The now-British-angel hoped they would be again. Soon.

"Besides," Gabriel continued, "I haven't slept with an angel since I left."

That shocks Balthazar more than it should and he thinks he knows why. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Gabriel snapped, no longer looking at Balthazar but out ahead, through the windshield. Even when embarrassed he won't bow his head. "I lie about some things but never sex." He paused and cast a quick glance at Balthazar before asking: "How about you?"

The blonde froze at the question. Normally he would be open and honest about this sort of thing with Gabriel. They didn't care what they told one another, they could be as crude as they wished and move on to bloody puppies in half a second, but he couldn't see his brother taking too kindly to the knowledge that Balthazar had been fucking Lucifer. Gabriel could hold grudges when he wanted to and knowing Gabriel, if he found out he's shout things like 'mutiny', 'bloody murder' and 'traitor!' whenever he saw Balthazar. Balthaza wouldn't get any rest if that happened, so instead he smiled and said a simple, "No. Not yet."

* * *

Dean pulled up the Impala down the road, behind the barn. "Let's go," said the hunter and his brother and his angel followed him out of the car and down the country road.

They scouted the perimeter of the barn first, Dean and Cas went one way and Sam went the other, meeting up near the front. "There's not a back door," Sam whispered when he reaches them. Dean nodded and pulls out his gun, Sam pulls out a knife and Castiel merely pats his gun through his pocket. He didn't need it, but it made him feel better that it was still there.

"Right," said Dean, cocking his gun and looking between his companions, "let's get this the fuck over with, shall we?"

* * *

Gabriel and Balthazar exited the Impala the second it stopped in the dirt road, immediately appearing in the barn where the coven of four witches were situated. They were starting to set up an altar. Gabriel watched as Balthazar strolled over to the altar and a few moments later a smirk is in place on his face.

"If they don't get here soon, these little girls are going to mess them up," Balthazar chuckled. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and too walked over to look at whatever Balthazar was staring it. He saw three photographs; one of Dean, one of Sam and one of Castiel.

How the witches took these, Gabriel didn't want to know.

"They can try," he told his brother, "but it's our time to have fun now, not theirs."

The both relocated to one side of the room when the Winchester's and their live-in angel burst through the barn doors, startling the witches and causing them to drop whatever they had been holding. The two of them lean back against the wall and watched.

The trio of death got to work fast, each grabbing a witch and beating the crap out of them in their own special way. Meaning: they were losing before they even began. Dean grabbed the closest one to him, the small brunette girl who surprised the hunter by being a lot stronger than she looked and not afraid to do the douchey thing in a fight. When Dean grabbed her by the neck and slammed her into the wall, she tried scratching at his hand but he increased the pressure. She struggled for breath as Dean took his gun and pressed it to her chest, the witch did the only logical thing and kicked him in the balls, causing him to double over in pain and for Balthazar to bark out a laugh. the girl composed herself and kicked Dean in the face, sending him to the ground and his gun flying across the floor. She jumped on him then, using the change in power to pin the hunter down by his throat instead and she began to utter an incantation under her breath as she leaned over him and Dean began to fall limp beneath her. When Dean's eyes rolled back in his head, someone striked the young witch in the back with a blade, she fell dead on top of a now perfectly fine Dean who smiled gratefully up at Castiel before pushing the stabbed girl off of him and taking the angels outstretched hand to stand up.

When Dean had grabbed the brunette, Sam had been slammed into the wall by an unseen force, right next to the spot where the screening angels were resting They could help. But they didn't. The redhead practically sauntered up to Sam, hips swaying and a devilish smile distorted her lips as she twisted the knife Sam had dropped between her fingers. She stopped an inch away from him and drags the point of the knife down the hunter's pulse point on his neck as he tried in vain to break the hold she had on him. She took it slow, enjoying his moans as she grabbed one of his wrists, stretching his arm out along the wall and suddenly the knife shot out, cutting through his wrist, Sam yelled out in pain not able to stop himself. He tried to yank his arm free but the knife kept it in place pinned against the wall. When she started punching him, Gabriel dragged his gaze away from the commotion in the middle of the room and gives pity on the hunter, and gives in, getting rid of the hold the witch had on him. That allowed Sam to kick her away from him wrench the knife from his wrist and kill the witch with it. When she fell, he walked over to Dean who was being helped up by Castiel.

Sam had been busy with the redhead, Dean the brunette and Castiel went for the girl in the middle. Being an angel, it had been easier for him. Each got a few hits in before Castiel was able to smite her. He was about to go for the fourth witch, much to Gabriel's dismay when out of the corner of his eye he saw that Dean was in trouble and went to help him instead.

That's when Gabriel helped Sam and turned to Balthazar. "_Take her now!_" he commanded and the other angel instantly did as he's told.

They've planned this out whilst they were watching. When Balthazar appeared next to the last witch, who was spitting curses at her covens killers, Sam, Dean and Castiel turn towards her. When they're about to attack, Balthazar roughly grabbed her by the shoulder and they both disappeared. They second they did, it's Gabriel's turn and the barn is engulfed into momentary darkness, then as suddenly as that happened, when the hunters and the angel were calling out to each other, an explosion of white light shot through them all.

Balthazar had appeared next to Gabriel in time to watch as the light exploded, no one able to see a thing for a few moments. He had whispered in Gabriel's ear that the witch was secure. The archangel didn't respond. He was too busy listening to Dean's shouting, Sam calling for his brother and he was too busy beginning their fun, starting with Castiel.

* * *

**A/N: And so their fun begins! *chuckles* I already know what they're going to do to each of them. :) **

**But you guys are just gonna have to wait a little while. Not long though I promise.**

**Also: I just want to thank everyone who has faved and followed and reviewed. I honestly can't express how much that makes me smile and I wish I could do something to thank you guys other than saying so. But I can't. :( **

**Wait! Here, *gives you all and full on angel hug, with wings and everything***

**I hope that suffices. :)**

**xxx**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**Prank One: Castiel:**

Before he knew what was happening, the room went from pitch black to pitch white, he panicked, understandably, and called out for Cas and Sam. His brother called back instantly but the angel's voice failed to be heard. "_Cas!_" bellowed Dean, as the room went back to normal.

"Dean, the witch is gone," Sam called to him, somewhere behind.

He didn't care about the damn witch. "Cas?" he called out, quieter now but still just as concerned. He turned, scanning the room for any sign of the angel, to see Sam crouched down with his back to him, looking down at something on the ground. He dragged his eyes away from whatever the fuck his brother was doing and called out for Cas again. Still nothing. What did that bitch do to him? "Cas!"

"Dean, you need to calm down," said Sam, still crouched down and not looking at Dean, who was pacing back and forth, a hand rubbing against his collar as he started to panic. Dean couldn't understand why Sam was telling him to calm down when that witch had done something and Cas was gone. Vanished. Zip._ His angel_ was gone and Sam was, by the looks of the small movements that Dean was able to see, stroking the fucking ground. Why the fuck was he doing that anyway?

"Calm down!" Dean shouted at his brother's back when he could take no more. "Calm down? How the fuck can you tell me to 'calm-the-fuck-down', Sammy? When Cas is nowhere to be seen! What the actual fuck? Why are you not worried? Why are you not freakin' panicking right now? Huh? That witch did something and now he's gone and you're just sitting on the fucking ground and telling me to calm down." He stopped pacing, stopped rambling, and drew in a long, shaky breath. Was he overreacting? _No. Definitely not_. After everything Cas had been through, Dean thought he deserved the right to panic when something else bad had obviously gone down on him. _Fuck_. Dean didn't think he could get more annoyed with Sam for not caring, but that was before Sam laughed at his outburst.

He fucking _laughed_.

"Why the hell are you laughing?" hissed Dean, stepping to stand right behind Sam's launched over form. "And what the ever-loving fuck are you doing down there anyway?"

Yeah, maybe he cursed a little too much when he was on edge. But he really couldn't care less right now.

"I'm not worrying because I know what happened to Cas," Sam told him, "and you would too if you actually took a moment to properly _look_, instead of acting like the overly concerned girlfriend, for a second."

He decided to let that slight pass, his mind more taken with Sam saying he knew what happened to his angel. "What do you mean you know what happened to Cas? How? And what?"

Sam didn't deem Dean with a answer, - not with words anyway, - he did however, get to his feet, shaking his head at the elder Winchester slightly an turned to face Dean. He took one look at Sam, his gaze mainly fixed on the thing in his hands and cried: "_What the hell is that?_"

"Why Dean," said Sam wryly, "I think it's a kitten."

"Yeah I can see that," Dean snapped, taking a moment to level his brother with a glare before looking back at it again. It was black, jet black, an it was staring at Dean with blue eyes. Like really fucking blue eyes. Like really fucking blue eyes just like Cas'. He wasn't stupid. He knew what had happened. And shit. "Sam ..." he started, a little uncertainly, because, yeah, he already knew the answer, but he wished he didn't and really could do with Sam either confirming or denying this, "is that - kitten - is it ... Cas?"

Sam sighed as he spoke, "Yeah, I think so. Pretty certain actually."

A lot of thoughts were swirling around his brain but the only thing that seemed to be able to come out was: "What the hell!"

Sam shrugged. "Must have been the witch before she fled. However she was able to do that .."

"I don't really care about that right now, Sammy."

"Of course not," Sam agreed. "The angel's now a cat, Dean."

Dean ran a hand over his face. Castiel ... was a kitten. A fucking kitten. They really couldn't deal with this right now. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, not really caring that his swearing wasn't helping anyone at the moment but his brain seemed to be able to do nothing else.

"Mmm," Sam hummed in assent. Obviously not too sure about what to do with the situation either. Dean lowered his hand again when Sam said: "Well ... here." He shoved the kitten which was Cas forward, albeit a bit too harshly perhaps because he hissed and dug his claws into the flesh of Sam's hand. Making the moose hiss out slightly in pain, sending a scowl down at Cas as Dean laughed.

"Gently now," Dean chastised him, "he's a fragile little thing. Be careful, Sammy."

Sam bitch-faced him which only made Dean smirk just that tiny bit wider because, yep, he was gonna try to find the funny side in all of this. After all, and angel of the Lord had been turned into a cat by a lowly witch. "Yeah, whatever," said Sam, glancing at Cas who still looked pissed at Sam for his movements, before looking back at Dean, "you're taking him now anyway."

"What? No. Why?"

"Because for some reason," answered Sam, "he doesn't like me holding him all that much, he's been clawing at me ever since I first picked him up." Sam made a face at Cas who was still holding on to Sam's hands with his claws for dear life, Sam obviously not amused about this. "And if I'm honest these scratches sting like a bitch and I don't want any more. He's your angel. You can take care of him."

Dean held his hands up in defense and started spewing excuses about how he didn't want bloody kitten scratches either, - 'my hands are fine as they are thanks very much', - before his words were cut short by Sammy shoving Cas into his chest and letting go, leaving the only thing to do is for Dean to hold him unless he wanted Cas to fall on the floor. And from this height, and in that form. Dean wasn't risking anything.

He heard Cas meow lightly, and when the two brothers looked down at him, he began to purr in what Dean thought was a way too loud volume to be remotely natural. But then again ... what did either of them know about cats? Dean saw Sam look at as though the angel had down him an incredly unjust deed. "Figures," his brother huffed.

"What?" Dean asked, confused, as he rubbed a finger behind Cas' left ear.

Sam shook his head, a light smile in place. "Even when he's a cat he likes you better."

_Yeah, that's because we fucking love each other,_ Dean thought, not daring to say it out loud. Because he hadn't even said it to Cas yet, and yeah, he'd kissed him but nothing since Christmas Eve. He knew he loved him though, wanted to tell him in fact. He just hadn't been sure when he should do so but he sure as hell knew that he wasn't gonna let it slip out to Sammy before hand. Instead he looked down at Cas and saw that where Cas had looked as scared as a cat could when in Sam's hold, in Dean's the now-cat looked perfectly happy. Leaning into Dean's touch and purring lightly. He hadn't actually clawed Dean once, which he smugly pointed out to Sam who shook his head, resigned, and left the barn mumbling things about 'favourites' and 'profound bonds'.

Dean smirked triumphantly at his brother's receding back, probably more feeling more elated at this fact than he should be. But he was happy that when even in cat form Cas knows who he is. _Wait. Does that mean ..._ Dean wondered if it meant that Cas as a cat still thought and felt as he did when he was an angel. _If so_, Dean mused, _that must be a real trippy experience for you, Cas._

Being in a cat but no really being one. Must be a little frustrating, Especially not being able to talk or even get himself out of the form.

Dean brought his eft hand up to run through the hairs on the back of his head, as he thought about how they were going to find the damned witch now, when he felt something press against his elbow. He looked down to see Cas resting one of his tiny paws against it "Still you in there then," Dean remarked, pleased by the familiar touch.

Cas tilted his head like he usually does, but because he's now a cat it looks kinds eerie and Dean brushes off the shiver that runs down his spine with a forced laugh. Yeah, ok ... that's a little weird.

Cas meowed again, maybe sensing Dean's small discomfort. Then retracted his paw.

"Come on," said Dean, cradling Cas a little closer to his chest as he walked them out of the barn, the col night air hitting them sharply, "let's go, I'm tired and you're a cat," he chuckled and Cas peered up at him, Dean was pretty sure that Cas was judging him for making light of the situation.

"Don't give me that," Dean moaned. "We'll sort you out as soon as we can, alright? For now though," he told him, turning down the hidden road and heading to his Impala that he could just about make out in the distance, "no killing any Tweety birds, y'hear?"

They reached his Baby quickly, Dean wanting to get in from the cold. Sam was waiting for them and said nothing as Dean struggled to unlock the car, it was a little tricky to do with one hand when a fidgeting angel/cat was in your other.

He slid in after Sam and plopped Cas into his brother's lap without looking, slamming his door closed and starting up the engine and turning the heating up straight away. For the first minute or two Cas sat vigilant on Sam's knee as he languidly stroked him, and stifled his own yawns. Which were making Dean even more sleepy just by hearing them. After a small while though, Cas seemed to get bored with Sam's attention and sought out Dean's instead.

He almost jumped out of his seat when he felt Cas crawl into his lap and he did that weird clawing thing that cats did. When Dean quickly petted him before returning his hand back to the steering wheel. Cas stopped instantly at the touch and curled up in a ball in Dean's lap, purring softly as he slowly fell asleep.

It wasn't until they got back to the motel and Sam had gone to take a shower that Dean took the time to actually look Cas' new form over. He had been peeved with Dean at first, for waking him up so they could get out of the car, but he was complacent now, as he sat on Dean's lap on the bed. He was black, like Dean had seen earlier, but he wasn't completely black, he had white streaks along his shoulder blades ... like markings for where his wings would be, which was a little weird. But then Dean saw the collar, which was the same colour as his damn trench coat, and then he saw what was in the place where on a normal pets collar there would be a tag; it was the pendant from his necklace. The one Dean had given him.

This was one really fucking detailed curse that witch had pulled.

* * *

_Day One:_

Dean woke up the next morning with a start, the sound of the motel room door slamming shut echoed through his dream, rousing him from his rest. He jumped up into a sitting position, something heavy falling from his chest and into his lap, he rubbing a hand over his eyes tiredly before looking to see what it was.

Cas, of course. Had he been sleeping on his chest? Was that even comfortable? Dean didn't know because when he looked down at a ruffled looking Cas, he jumped off the bed and skulked off to lay down under the table on the other side of the room.

Dean snorted at Cas' huffiness over an accident, before dragging himself out of the warm bed, which he wished he could just lie in all day, and over to the table where a piece of paper was folded to rest upright on the plastic surface. It was a note from Sam, who - _the little bitch_ - had been the one to slam the door shut as he left.

_Dean,  
__Gone out to get some supplies for Cas. Figured we'd need them in case we don't find the witch right away.  
__I'll bring back breakfast.  
__- Sam._

Good. That gave him enough time to take a quick shower before his brother got back. And, oh God, supplies for Cas. That was gonna be something. An angel of the Lord doing its business in a litter tray.

Pure gold.

Sniggering, he dropped the note back on the table and knelt down to look at Cas. "Well I'm gonna go have a shower," he told him, motioning to the door of the bathroom with his head, not entirely sure why he was talking to someone who couldn't talk back. "So no funny business while I'm gone and I don't know if the no-bathroom thing still applies when you're in this form. Either way, hold it in until Sammy gets back." He got up and grabbed a towel and a change of clothes from his duffle bag, Castiel following him out from under the table.

"Uh-uh-uh," Dean admonished, keeping Castiel from entering the bathroom by his foot. "No cats allowed. See ya in a bit, buddy."

If the first time Castiel saw him naked, - if at all, because yeah he loves him but would the angel even want that?,- it sure as hell wasn't going to be when he was a freakin' cat.

He made the shower as quick as possible, not wanting to leave Cas alone for long. Not that being in the same room would help all that much, but he knew if he were in that situation he'd rather not be alone in a sleazy motel room.

Sam came back when Dean exited the bathroom, clean and in fresh clothes, running a towel through his hair.

"Hey Dean," Sam greeted, kicking the door shut with his foot and walking over to the table, placing two bags onto it, "got takeaway coffee and pancakes."

Dean hummed a sound of appreciation as he slid onto a chair. "And what did you get yourself? I assume you're not gonna eat some delicious pancakes."

"Some fruit salad," replied Sam, sitting opposite Dean and rolling his eyes at the snort of diversion that Dean sent him in a way of reply. "Just because I care about what I put in my body."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean grabs a coffee and the container labelled 'pancakes' from the takeaway diner bag. "You do know you can have something nice once in a blue moon, y'know?" Dean mumbles, before taking a bite and moaning happily at the taste.

"This _is_ nice," Sam countered, now digging in to his own sorry excuse for a breakfast.

Dean says no more and neither does Sam before they've eaten every last bite and all that's left are a couple of sips of coffee. "So," said Dean, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach contently, it really was delicious, "what'd you buy Catstiel?"

Sam smirked at the nickname but didn't answer him. He did however ask a question of his own. "Where's Cas anyway?" Sam moved around in his seat, trying to find the angel. Dean ducked his head under the table, and finds that he had retreated there again after Dean had rebuffed his attempts to follow him into the bathroom. "He's under the table again," he told Sam, who stopped looking and looked himself. Being the giant that he was he had to push his seat back in order to bend down enough to get a good look.

He began to talk to Cas, in a maybe more patronising tone than he should, and so Dean tuned him out for a little while. Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled the bag of cat supplies toward his end of the table and pulls the items out one by one. A bowl: one for food and another for drink. A litter tray, a bag of cat litter, and a box of sachets specifically designed for kittens.

"I didn't want him getting sick," Sam explained, drawing Dean's gaze away from reading the packaging, earning him a confused look, "I mean, he was turned into a _kitten_, not a full grown cat, and the people in the shop said that giving a kitten cat food might make him sick."

"Better to be safe than sorry?"

"Yeah, exactly." Sam paused, thinking. "Wait. Will he even need to eat? I mean, I just assumed ..."

Dean shrugged, grabbed his coffee and threw back the last mouthful. "I dunno, guess we'll just have to wait and see."

The morning went slow and Cas still wouldn't come out from under the table. After a while Sam told Dean to stop trying, telling him that he would come out when he wanted. Both had tried to yank him out but he had backed away and swiped at them with his claws. Dean didn't understand what had prompted this change in mood but he was too pissed at Cas to try and figure it out.

"Right," sighed Sam after resting on his bed for a few hours watching crappy daytime television with Dean, "I supposed we should start the search for the witch." Dean, who was resting against the headboard of his own bed, turned his head slightly to look at Sam, whose gaze flickered to under the table where Cas was still sitting. "Don't want Cas smiting us when he gets back to normal for taking so long."

Dean looked to the cat which was sending them death glares. He would have laughed if Cas hadn't been through so much shit lately.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Dean agreed, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off. "So, where do you wanna start? We don't exactly have Cas' help this time around ..."

"I was gonna go talk to Hayley's family and friends, see what information I can get about her and see if it lights on a place she may have fled to."

Dean nodded his assent until Sam grabbed his FBI suit and started to change and when Dean went to get dressed himself, his brother stopped him by laughing. "You're not coming too, Dean."

He almost sounded patronising. As if placating a small child.

"What?" Dean demanded. "And why the hell not?"

"Because," said Sam, slipping on his suit jacket and popping the buttons through their holes, "someone's gotta stay and look after Cas."

He had a point. Dean scowled a little anyway. He wanted to go out, he wanted to do something and get the witch himself. Not stay in a motel room all day looking after a damn angel who was taking his current situation out on the people who were only trying to help.

"And why can't you stay with him?" Dean asked after a while, turning as so to keep his eyes on Sammy when he crossed the room, tying his tie and reaching for the door handle.

He opened the door a crack before turning to Dean, his hand still behind him on the door. "Profound bond?" he ventured, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't really know but you're staying here and I'm going out."

"Bu-"

"-Besides," Sam interrupted before Dean could protest further, "I'm the one already dressed." And with that he threw the door wide open and left without a glance backward.

"Great," Dean muttered, a hand running through his hair as he turned back toward his bed, with nothing better to do. He almost jumped out of his skin however when he saw Cas sitting there, watching him.

"Jesus Christ, Cas! Don't do that! It's still creepy as hell when you're a cat you know ..." Nothing. He just kept staring as if Dean had done something wrong and he was waiting for Dean to realise it. But he had done nothing wrong, in fact, he was pretty sure he had done everything right.

Dean sighed, his whole body attempting to relax. "So ... you hungry or anything?"

As if in answer, Cas spared him one last glance before curling up in a ball in the middle of Dean's bed. "Obviously not then."

Shaking his head, Dean tried his best to fit back onto his bed, and not kick Cas. It was hard to be honest, really damn hard. How the ever loving fuck can a thing so tiny take up so much damn room? How was that even possible?

When he accidentally rocked the sleeping Cas, his foot slipping off of it's perch over his right ankle and hit the spot on the bed right next to Cas' head, he got Cas jumping up and moving his position to lay over the bottom half of his legs instead. _What the fuck Cas?_

"Really?" he directed his question at Cas, "is that even comfortable or are you just taking one for the team in order to piss me off?"

Nothing again. Of course nothing. He was a cat now, he couldn't well answer Dean.

"Fine."

Dean gave up and tried his best to relax in this position with the dead weight on his ankles. He turned the TV back on, steering well away from the pay-per-view channels, and put on some crappy soap opera. He would have preferred Dr Sexy, but it wasn't on and so he had to make do.

* * *

_Day Two:_

Being a cat was an incredibly odd experience. And what he wanted more than anything was to be back in that familiar skin, that was no longer Jimmy's but his own human body now.

This was the morning after when Dean left him to go and have a shower.

So by the next day, when Sam had come home in the late afternoon yesterday saying that he hadn't made nay progress and he couldn't find a single clue as to where the witch would be next, Castiel was fed up.

But it wasn't like he could do anything about it in this form. His powers had been trapped, so there was no turning himself back, or locating the witch and somehow letting the brother's know that he knew where she was. No, all Castiel could do was wait. And even on day two he felt he had waited long enough.

He was also beginning to get a little worried about this spell. For some reason the longer he was in this form the more he actually felt like a cat. The first day, he hadn't been hungry, but today he was and he had practically meowed Dean's ear off before he got the idea and fed him that revolting looking cat feed. Revolting it looked, disgusting it smelt, and sadly it didn't taste all that good either, but Cas hadn't felt this hungry since Famine was in town and so he wolfed it all down in a manner of seconds.

"Slow down there, buddy," Dean said, looking down at him, "don't wanna make yourself sick."

Castiel highly doubted that that would happen. He was never sick. But he listened to Dean anyway and ate the remaining food at a more reasonable pace. Dean seemed happy about this and left him to it.

Castiel didn't really understand what was happening. Well, of course he understood ... he just didn't _understand_.

Dean was sitting on his bed reading through his father's journal, from what he had told Sam, Castiel knew he was looking to see if there was anything in here they could use to locate an obviously very powerful witch. Sam was up at the table, laptop open in front of him and every now and then he would pick up a pen and scribble things down onto a notepad next to the computer.

Castiel didn't really take much notice of what the brother's were doing at first, he couldn't help and so he just sat in the middle of the room, occasionally giving in to the sudden need to be petted and walking over to Dean or Sam, rubbing against a leg or the bed cloth, showing them what he wanted. They would understand and stroke him, but not for long before they ripping their hand away and went back to research.

Castiel shouldn't have been so annoyed by that. They were trying to help him. _Then why do I want them to stop what they're doing and pay full attention to me?_ Castiel wondered, _Do all cats act like this?_

He looked up at Sam and that's when it caught his attention.

The pen.

Or moreso, the movement that the pen made, Sam rolling it back and forth absentmindedly across the paper.

_That_ caught Castiel's full attention.

He didn't know how it happened but the next thing he knew was he had somehow gotten from the floor to up on the table and and batting the pen from Sam's hand and chasing it when it fell to the floor.

"Maybe we should find the witch sooner rather than later," Dean managed to wheeze out between laughs.

"Yeah," said Sam, watching Castiel hit the pen with his paw across the carpet, "I think you're right."

* * *

_Day Three:_

Day three and Dean was verging on having enough of Cas as a cat. At first it was a little funny, but then he started acting more like a cat on coke instead of an angel trapped inside a cat with a stick up his ass and it was starting to piss him the hell off.

Sam thought it was funny when Cas jumped on Dean's chest at five in the morning, waking him up for no apparent reason. Dean had to remind himself that Cas was a cat and he couldn't exact any sort of revenge on him like this. Sam thought it was funny when Cas would scratch the shit out of Dean's boot and only rub up against Sam's like a cat in heat. Dean didn't understand what the hell the difference was between the shoes. Dean laughed when Sam couldn't write or move the mouse on his computer without Cas attacking the pen/computer screen. Sam being Samantha, held his annoyance in better than Dean. _Bitch_.

There was still no sign of the witch however. Sam hadn't gotten any information from her friends and family, and so he had resorted to searching every motel, run down building and warehouse in and on the edge of town, he spent most of his days and nights doing just that.

Dean had wanted to go with him because if he found her then things could get dangerous if he was on his own. But he always declined him and said he wasn't going to make a move without Dean there and that if he found her he'd come back and they'd go get her the next night.

Dean wished Sam would just hurry the hell up and find her.

* * *

_Day Four:_

Dean woke up first the next morning, Sam was in his bed, dead to the world and Cas was nowhere to been seen. Not that Dean looked all that hard ... he had just woken up and was too tired to care about where the angel was.

He got up and did his morning routine, shower, get dressed, brush teeth, shave.

He was in the middle of breakfast when Sam woke up and sleepily shuffled himself into the shower.

Dean was suffocating in this room and he needed to get out. Now, was the perfect opportunity. Go hunt himself where Sam had left off while his brother was in the shower and couldn't do a thing to stop him. If he spent one more day in here with the most annoying kitten to grace earth he was going to either kill Cas or himself. Or kill Cas and then kill himself.

So really, this was the only logical solution left.

He ran out before Sam came out, not bothering to waste time leaving a note, he would get the idea as soon as he saw that Dean wasn't coming back with breakfast or something. He managed to get to the door before encountering a hindrance. Castiel. The bloody cat decided to try and stop Dean's Great Escape by jumping onto the first piece of leg he could find and held on tightly with every single one of his claws.

He wasn't going to deny it. It fucking hurt like a bitch and he couldn't exactly stop the yelp of pain he let out as soon as they were dug into his skin.

He roughly grabbed Cas around his body and held him up to face level. "_Don't do that!_" He heard the shower switch off in the bathroom and stopped himself before he berated the cat and Sam heard.

Unfortunately though, Castiel seemed to have other plans for Dean today that did not coexist with Dean's own. Dean wanted to get fresh air and gank a witch. Cas seemed to want to keep him in the room once again if his stupidly loud howls were anything to go by. It sounded as if someone kept stepping on his tail and it was a damn irritating sound.

"Is something wrong?" Dean heard Sam call out from behind the bathroom door.

Shit. "No!" Dean called back, throwing Cas onto his bed and making a run for it. Bolting out of the door before his brother came out to see what was wrong because Cas wouldn't shut the fuck up.

_Bloody needy-ass cat,_ Dean thought bitterly as he slid into the front seat of the Impala and pulled out of the parking lot.

His search was fruitless. He couldn't find the witch and every time he checked an area off the map there were less and less places to search and Dean got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that they weren't going to find her.

Sam, ever the optimist, told him that the less places to check the sooner they'd find her.

Dean tried to look at it his way but he couldn't. He couldn't help but feel that it would be just their luck for Cas to be stuck like this forever.

* * *

_Day Five:_

"Well, Dean seems to hate when Castiel turns into a cat," Balthazar drawled, sitting himself down at the motel room table in the seat that Sam had just vacated.

Gabriel nodded, not taking his eyes off of Dean who was red-faced and extremely pissed off because Castiel had eaten some of Dean's burger the night before and had been sick on his duffle in the middle of the night. The older Winchester had only just found Castiel's food review and Gabriel was trying hard not to laugh at the scene. Dean was overreacting, - as always, - Castiel was hiding in between Sam's bed and the bedside table, - Dean's shouting scaring the poor little guy, - and Sam was trying to do the same as Gabriel whilst trying to placate his brother and not tell him it was his own doing for giving him a piece of his burger.

"Christ Cas!" the Winchester growled, throwing the bag onto Sam's bed and glaring at the gap that Cas had managed to squeeze his tiny form into. "You couldn't have done it on something of Sam's could you?"

Sam put his laptop away, shaking his head at his brother. Good. It wasn't just Gabriel that thought Dean-o was taking this a bit too much to heart. Geez, the angel - cat now, Gabriel smirked, was sick, you'd think he'd just get over it.

"So," said Balthazar and Gabriel turned to face him, "what's the plan for dear old Cassie's last day as Hello-Kitty?"

Gabriel jumped up to sit next to his brother on the table, "Actually, it's your idea that I'm planning on putting into action, Balth. It was rather good and it'd be funny to watch."

He saw Balthazar frown out of the corner of his eye, but didn't do or say anything to ease his confusion. He would ask Gabriel what idea he was on about and then Gabriel would tell him. Besides, he wanted to see if Balthazar would actually get what he was hinting at without having to ask.

"Gaby ..." Apparently not. Gabriel huffed out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes?" he asked Balthazar, turning his head dramatically to loll on his shoulder as he stared down at him.

"Don't give me attitude, Gabriel. You know by saying that you'd confuse me." He couldn't deny that so he grinned and his brother rolled his eyes and lent further back in the chair, resting his left foot on his right thigh. "Exactly what I thought. Now, tell me."

Gabriel waited a while, before answering. Taking in the scene before him. Dean sitting on Sam's bed, scrubbing at his duffle whilst Castiel slinks his way out of his hiding place and jumps up onto Dean's bed, laying himself down at the edge of the bed furthest away from the hunter. Sam was in the bathroom, the door was wide open and if Gabriel craned his neck he could see in the mirror Sam shaving.

"If anything needs shaving on the moose, it's his hair," Gabriel quipped, "he's starting to look like the humans depiction of Jesus."

"Yes," Balthazar agreed, and Gabriel wondered when he got the scotch in his hand, "but it's not exactly doing him miracles. He's still perfectly proportioned in all the right ways ... but it makes him look like he can't afford to groom himself. And that's always a downside when farmers go bull buying."

Gabriel snorted, shaking his head and snaking the glass from his brother and downing its remains.

"You ever going to enlighten me to your plans?" Balthazar asks him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and annoyance at his drink being stolen.

"Yep."

"You going to do it any time soon?"

He thought about this. It was going to happen today anyway. "Yep."

"Now?" his brother insisted, only a slight hint of it being a question rather than a command.

"Of course," replied Gabriel, blinking the glass out of existence. "Mouse."

Gabriel relished his brother's double-take. "Mouse?" Balthazar blurted, his brow knit together. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Gaby, that really doesn't give me any clue as to what in the world you are plan-" A pregnant pause and Gabriel knew he had got it. "Gabriel you can't! I thought that out of the three of them we were going to go the easiest on Cassie?"

"We are," retorted Gabriel.

"You're going to make him get eaten by a giant mouse!" Balthazar squawked, looking at him with wide eyes. "Tell me now, how is that going easy on him?"

"Because," said Gabriel carefully, "as soon as he gets munched I'm gonna bring him back. Vessel and all."

Balthazar narrowed his eyes but didn't protest any further. After a very close call where Sam came over and was about to sit on top of Balthazar, before changing his mind and getting a beer from the kitchenette and going to lay on his bed as he flicked the television on. "When are you going to do it then?" Balthazar inquired but Gabriel could still sense a trace of reluctance in his tone. So he snapped at him: "Just be glad that I'm not killing him indefinitely. That's normally how these pranks of mine go." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. "This one will have him dead long enough to scare the crap out of the Winchester's and then he'll be back to normal. As good as new."

It took a couple of moments of his brother internally debating with himself. Gabriel knew that if it were anyone else he wouldn't have a single qualm with it. But his brother was close with Castiel, before Balthazar left Heaven and Castiel killed him, and so he didn't want to put more crap on their little brother after all he'd gone through recently. After what felt like decades to the archangel, Balthazar turned to him with a smile and told him to get the show on the road.

It started with a tiny mouse running across the room and hiding itself behind the cabinet holding the television.

Castiel saw it immediately and pounced down from his perch on Dean's lap and ran over to the stand where it had disappeared. The hunters watched, confused, they had both been watching the telly and neither brother saw the appearance of the rodent.

Sam got up and walked over to Castiel, who was struggling with all his might to squeeze behind the television set and attack the mouse, and pulled him away. The moose ignored the impatient scratches Castiel was inflicting on him as Dean crouched down and looked behind the stand to see what had caused the commotion.

"Fuck!" the elder Winchester exclaimed and the invisible angels laughed.

"Don't be such a girl, Dean-o," Gabriel reprimanded with a grin.

Sam carried on to struggle at keeping Castiel still as he asked his brother: "What? What's wrong?"

Dean ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "There's a fucking mouse behind there. That's why Cas wants behind there so bad. Fucking skanky motels ..." he added in a low grumble.

"Right," said Sam, shifting to sit easier on his haunches, "err ... do you wanna pull the stand away and we can grab it, throw it out?"

"We're not gonna be able to do that with Cas on the warpath, Sammy."

Gabriel didn't want the Winchester's in the room when the mouse began to grow, otherwise they'd kill it before it could get to Cas. So he placed the idea of them leaving for ten minutes to see if Cas, being a cat and all, could hunt and kill it.

The brothers left and Gabriel brought the mouse out a placed it in the middle of the room. Castiel followed it's every movement with his eyes, which wasn't much because the mouse was cowering away in fright.

It wasn't long before Cas couldn't control the urge anymore and once again pounced on the mouse, this time hitting home. However, everything Castiel would so much as touch the mouse, it would grow in size. Until it was no bigger than a small dog and had Castiel half cowering away and half still trying to kill the over sized rodent.

"Oh, I can't watch this," Balthazar moaned. turning his head away when Castiel scratched the rodent and it reciprocated by digging its teeth into his fur in retaliation Blood spilling from the wound.

Gabriel, shook his head. A smile in place as he sat crossed legged next to his brother on Sam's bed. "Don't then," he stated, not really caring if Balthazar was enjoying this or not. Because he sure as hell was.

In the end, Castiel didn't get eaten by the mouse, just excessively battered to death. Balthazar looked down at the tiny body when Gabriel told him it was over.

Gabriel pulled out a candy bar and huffed: "Damn, that was a lot of work. Need to replenish myself." Balthazar gave him that look. That look that said 'you're-an-angel-you-don't-need-to-replenish-anything'.

"You going to bring him back then?"

Gabriel shrugged. "No, not yet. The brother's Grimm need to see their handy work first?"

Balthazar could have gotten whiplash from the speed he whipped his face around from the floor to the archangel. "Their handy work?"

"Well ... it wasn't me who left Cassie to fend for himself now was it?"

Balthazar stood up, yanking the candy from his brother - who yelped in protest - as he did so. "It kind of was. You put the idea in their heads to leave."

"They could have fought against it if they tried!"

His brother wasn't believing his shit however. "You're an archangel, Gabriel. Of course they wouldn't have been able to fight it."

Gabriel grinned. "Yeah, you're right. Oh well!"

His brother was about to reply when the door opened and Dean and Sam walked in. They called for Cas but nothing came, and they soon found out why when they saw their angel dead on the floor. In cat form he really looked pitiful. No wings burnt into the floor though, they would have noticed, because Castiel wasn't really dead. Gabriel made sure of that. He just looked dead.

When it came apparent that the elder Winchester was on the verge of actually crying, - something that Gabriel noted to look into after they were done, - he snapped his fingers and the cat-body vanished and as soon as that happened Castiel was standing there, Jimmy's old body and trench coat and all. Looking thoroughly confused as to what had happened.

"Come on, Balth. Let's leave them to it. We can come back tomorrow and fuck with Dean-o."

* * *

He was not dead. He could not be dead. He was an angel of the Lord, albeit in cat form, but _still_. He was an angel! And sure as Hell wasn't going to be taken out by a damned mouse.

"Dean ..." Sam began but trailed off when Cas disappeared. "What the-"

"-Hello, Dean," came the gruff voice of Castiel, who had suddenly turned up where his cat-body he died. "Sam."

Dean just stared with wide eyes, not sure in the slightest what the fuck had just happened there. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?" the angel replied, taking a break from smoothing down his tie to look at the hunter.

"You're alive ..." was all he could manage, he saw Sam shuffle off to sit at the table, happy in the knowledge that Cas was not in fact dead and he could move on with their lives.

"Yes."

Dean made a face. Castiel. Straight forward as always. "Not that I ain't glad, because I am," Dean said, lowering his voice so Sam couldn't hear exactly what was being said, "but how?"

"I'm not sure," Castiel admitted, walking over to sit on Dean's bed and the hunter followed suit. Lowering himself beside his angel. "I suppose the spell wore off once I died."

Dean let out a long breath, looking over at the angel and letting a small smile find its way onto his face. Fuck, he had thought he'd lost him. Again. He wouldn't be able to handle that. "Good. I'm ... glad ... you're ok, and back to y'know, normal."

Castiel turned his face to look at him and smiled. Truly smiled. They were rare enough as it was, even moreso ever since Purgatory and so Dean couldn't help but return it with a huge grin. "I am too," said Cas, pulling his trench coat closer around him. "It was an exceedingly weird experience to go through. A very powerful spell too."

Something flickered over the angel's face and Dean asked what was wrong.

"You haven't found her yet," Cas answered, lowering his gaze to his lap and sighing, "she's obviously more powerful than we realised and I'm worried about what she'll do next now that she knows we are on to her and killed her corrupted kin."

Dean shook his head, trust Castiel to worry so damn much. He looked up at Sam who was now rifling through the fridge for something to eat. "Hey, don't worry," he said, squeezing Cas' hand reassuringly for a few moments before retracting it, "you know us, always in trouble will all things evil. But we always get them in the end."

He gave a cocksure smile to emphasize his point and that seemed to stop the angel's worrying.

"You're right." Cas shook his head slightly before continuing, "I was being ... silly?"

Dean snorted a laugh at the half-question. "Yeah, you were being a little silly," he agreed, clapping him lightly on the shoulder, "but it's not exactly like you don't have reason. I mean you were turned into a freakin' cat and then killed by a damn mouse."

He was trying hard not to laugh at that. Now that it was over and Cas was back being Cas, he was beginning to see the funny side in it all.

"You can laugh if you wish," Cas told him.

And so he did. A lot. He didn't stop in fact until Sam had to come over and throw a glass on water on his head.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know ... so cliche to do kitty!Cas. But I couldn't help myself. It was either that or something else(but I decided to save that for another fic somewhere down the line), and so Catstiel it was. **

**Also, it's a day late(my bad), half way through I was just like: what the hell do I want to write? And it took a little of me pushing myself through to get it all down. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. And thank you every, so bloody much for reviewing or following or favouriting. **

**You guys are awesome and I love you for it!**

**xxx**


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